Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Tattoos on Super Tuesday
Instead of sitting with my ear pressed to the radio, listening to the live coverage of Super Tuesday, I was lying on a hospital bed, stripped from the waist up, with my arms raised above my head, various doctors clucking around me, sticking things on my breast, complimenting me on my small scars, marking me with a marker, and confirming coordinates with each other. A green beam moved over my body. I was doing a simulation for radiation - ah yes, patient again. They told me "you are doing great" a lot, which does actually make it better. I was given seven tattoos, nothing like the flying pig or copyright sign I had once considered a good idea. Seven dots tattooed in and around the bad breast to enable them to position me for radiation, which starts next week.
Driving down Market street, Obama supporters stood at all the traffic lights, holding big signs in support of Obama; "Honk for change", and cheering as I went by. It felt like a party.
When I got home Jip's school called that Jip really was not well, could I come and get him? So I shouldn't have sent him to school with a fever then? I felt really bad and have been serving him hand and foot since then. He is starting to like it. Rosie said "No, thank you" when I attempted to brush her teeth. "I choke". Tomorrow a better parent.
S3, have you packed your flower, your raincoat and your swimming costume yet? I am awaiting your arrival.