What a lovely Haitian accent, I thought as the technician tried to find my vein. Have you had anything to drink today? She asked. To drink? It’s a little early for happy hour I thought. You mean water? I replied. Yes, she said and added, I’m having a hard time finding your vein. Oh, I had a bit of coconut flavored water, I said. She didn’t reply. Truth is I’m very bad at drinking water. I try to be healthy, a vegan wanna be, but I don’t exercise and I hate drinking water. Coconut flavored infused water didn't seem to impress her. When I received the news, I asked my doctor if this was a result of too much sugar in my diet. I guess she noticed the bit of guilt in my tone and reassured me it’s not my fault. She said, one in every 8 women are diagnosed with cancer, you have done nothing wrong. But I can’t help it, the catholic in me wants to beat on my chest and say, "por mi culpa, por mi culpa por mi gran culpa, I have sinned through my own fault", as I repeated Sundays at church when I was little.
So now I lay face down with my breast hanging down in front of a machine ready to swallow me whole. The kind that has been declared demonic by some. And maybe they are correct or else why would there be so many red warning signs at the door. Caution! Danger! This sophisticated machine that claims would help cure me could also harm me. The technician didn’t mention anything about that. Why would she, we have all sorts of machines now everywhere, placed and designed for our “own good”, even at airports, no disclaimers needed here I guess.
She gives me ear plugs as I lay nervously. The last thing I’ll put on you are the headphones, it will get loud, she says. She hooks me to the IV and off she rolls me inside this monster machine, headphones on and a little pump inside my fist in case of an emergency, all in place.
She was right about her only disclaimer, it was loud in there. But I could hear at times the music through the headphones. 80's songs were playing, fits me perfect since I am a proud 80's girl. In between the loud noises that sounded as if I was trapped in the belly of a moving plane I heard Phil’s voice. “I could leave but I won't go. It'd be easier I know. I can't feel a thing from my head down to my toes.” It made me laugh, it was exactly how I felt. Inside the monster who was ingesting me by loud pieces Phil was with me, as he did so many times when I was a teen. And so I got distracted seeing my life in chapters like a book, realizing how much I want to create more chapters and more stories to tell, even the ones I rather not talk about, like this one. Cause there is no more to life but our stories, that’s all.
