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Postcards of Grief

Mourning is a process.

Comments on breast cancer by proxy, written by a woman coping with the loss of her mother.

Tuesday, December 02, 2003

Upswing


I've been a lot calmer lately, which I am truly grateful for. My father adores his granddaughter and the two of them make us all break out in giggles. No major migraines in almost a week.

Church has me burned out and broken down. I'm considering churching with a friend save for the dates that I need to make an official appearance. Fortunately, the bulk of my churchly obligations end in 46 days.

Eating is becoming more problematic. If only I were actually hungry when food opportunities presented themselves, I'd probably be recovering. Ten pounds? Fifteen pounds? I've lost a lot since this summer, and my littlest pants are now gapping in the back. The smaller I am, the less people seem to take me seriously. Maybe it's a stature thing. Maybe it's my self-consciousness at the ridiculousness my body has dropped on me. Baggy slacks, blouses fitting like garbage bags. Sometimes I wonder if it's the eyes--my eyes. My sunken eyes that let passersby gauge the value of my sleep and nutrition over the last weeks. Thank God I'm not looking for a job. Or sperm for that matter. I wonder how much damage I've done to my fertility.

Poor B. She's trying to compensate for my lack of appetite, my sleeplessness, and my moodiness, and then she goes and gets sick.


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