I got up this morning, scrubbed my face, and meant to make myself a pot of tea.

Instead, I began chopping. Slicing. Celebrating my still nimble hands and my one good knife. Onions, beets, carrots, leeks, potatoes.

One pot bubbling with a tawny port and a touch of beef stock. Layers and layers of onions growing a warm brown.

Another pot an explosion of color. Mounds of vegetables, blending into a happy maroon.

The steam fogged up the winter window. The dog and cat collapsed with happy sighs against the wall. My son at the table, writing a letter to Santa.

And still in my nightgown. Hair piled into an untidy bun. Nose still pink with a fading cold. My hair streaks a fading pink against my darkening winter hair.

I'm listening to a mix that I made for my Dad. Ramsey Lewis Trio doing 'The In Crowd' and Buddy Rich's 'Keep the Customer Satisfied'. Every once in a while, Bear and I break out in the white man's shuffle; dancing like pecking pigeons while biting our lower lips and bobbing our heads.

Years from now, I'll teach him to sway with a lighter going in his hand whenever a certain Southern Fried Rock tune is played. It's important to teach your kids to respect the classics.

A dozen or so years ago, my Dad, who is all about being with the one you're with, got with a nice New England lady who had two young kids. I was in my late 20's, doing my own thing, and took little notice.

As the years went by, he became more and more a part of her life, her family, her world. Months would drift by and I'd wonder how long it had been since he and I had spoken.

Once I had Bear, we began reconnecting. As you do. And so, the last couple of years, I have finally gotten to know her a bit. Met her kids, finally. Her daughter, just last summer. I am no one to them, really. The mother of their stepdad's grandson.

We went to dinner, one night. And she and my father had a playful argument. "But we alllllways go there..." she teased him, about his choice of restaurant. And I realized, with a start, that they'd had an entire childhood with my Dad.

Oh.

We awkwardly try, belatedly try, to blend things now. For him, for Bear. So I pack up boxes, with gifts for those people I do not know. With smiley faces on the tags.

And listen to a CD I never sent. Spell out a word for my son, who is still such a stranger to them. Add dill to a soup they do not know I make. Let the warm kitchen air curl the tendrils of my hair as it spills from that old ratty band.

This is not the family of the Christmas movies. This is not gingerbread houses, and hoof sounds on the roof. You get older, and realize that most moments are a compromise between history and today.

And that's OK.

I mean, it wasn't, before. And maybe won't be tomorrow. Something will happen, rip the wound back open.

But for right now? Yeah. It's OK.

Posted by: Elizabeth at 07:13 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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So, the Neurologist did a neuro exam on me and determined that the ping pong ball is not currently causing me any (additional) impairment.

Next stop? Neurosurgeon.

Who, Not-McDreamy informed us, will probably tell us what symptoms to look for and otherwise prescribe regular MRI's going forward to track this stupid thing.

But I probably will not be bald and running from some souped-up Black & Decker over the holidays.

And for that present come early? I am going to don a slinky negligee and attack Santa senseless.

Just saying.

Posted by: Elizabeth at 05:28 PM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
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1 That's great!

Posted by: mommi2one at December 12, 2007 06:50 PM (msbri)

2 Yay for not bald! And yay for Santa (hubba hubba)!

Posted by: Sharkey at December 13, 2007 02:22 AM (cmHYN)

3 Yay! That's great news. And I have a feeling that Santa's proxy in your house is going to be very thankful, both for the news, and for the fact that you're going around attacking in a negligee.

Posted by: alice at December 13, 2007 02:30 AM (KbLao)

4 Great news! By the way, I am wearing a red suit today. Just saying. (Actually, I'm really not. I had to go to court today. But tomorrow. . . )

Posted by: rp at December 13, 2007 07:39 AM (op1yW)

5 That's great news!

Posted by: coquette at December 13, 2007 07:52 AM (9J4EK)

6 I actually know a guy who is Santa for a living. Being single, he signed up with match or eharmony or something like it. You would not believe how many of his dates asked him to bring the red suit along on their dates... eep! So glad things are looking up!

Posted by: Stacy at December 13, 2007 12:47 PM (LPNEK)

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OK, so yesterday I met with the doctor to discuss what has been diagnosed as severe Secondary Raynaud's.

I first developed Reyanaud's in 2005.

Luckily for me, it remained very low-key. So I almost forgot about it, except for the odd 'stabbing' sensation I would get every so often. And my bizarrely cold nose.

Until my hands went stinging numb 6 weeks ago.

Now that there's a clear diagnosis, the path forward was fairly straightforward: They're going to do a pretty insane electrical test to see how bad the damage is, and I've been put on Calcium Channel Blockers to treat it.

I have to watch for gangrene. And most importantly, keep my extremities warm. Buy mittens. Big woolly mittens. All I have is gloves.

So, just to recap: Eyes, Toes, Hands and Nose. Yes, I'm a regular children's song. Even got my own dance to go with it.

Over the long term, this is the condition that is going to be the shits to live with. But live with it I will, because despite all the crap it causes - it ain't fatal.

Let's hug that sentence for a moment. C'mon, you know you want to.

Ah, that's better.

On to the other shoe...

An incidental finding of the MRI (besides the slight infection) was a benign cyst sized 7 centimeters... in my brain.

As my brain is not to be used as a storage facility for foreign objects, off we now shall go to the Neurosurgeon and Neurologist (hoping for McDreamy, what are the odds?) to discuss what happens next, if anything.

Maybe it's a 'watch and see' kind of cyst. Maybe not. Won't know for until after the appointment.

I'm taking a LOT of comfort right now from the word 'benign' and in the fact that it was in the 'incidental findings' part of the MRI and anyone who bursts that bubble for me will be ripped limb from limb by a pack of rabid dogs.

In the meantime...

*sigh*

Posted by: Elizabeth at 06:15 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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