Search This Blog

Friday, May 8, 2015

Tidbits From the Last Chemo Day

As we inched our way up 93 during inbound, “rush” hour traffic, headed for the last day of chemo, we passed a sign for Infinity Mortgage.

I thought "you gotta be shittin' me!" WORST name for a mortgage shop EVAH! A home loan is the biggest bucko contract that most of us will ever enter into. Who in Bast’s name would feel inspired to trust a company with a handle like this? Honestly, mortgages already feel like they go on forever—a lifelong commitment.  Why would I want to do biz with a outfit whose very name promises that my payments will last an eternity?

Also, the nom de putz appeared in some rounded font—horrifically close to Comic Sans. No, really. Apparently the owners are trying to inspire ROFLs versus confidence in their financial smarts.
There’s Only One? ‘the fuck? There’s only one American flag? What’s that even supposed to mean?

This fetishizing of the flag has nothing to do with love and allegiance to the country. No. Rather, it has everything in common with half dressed rabid football fans, bodies painted in team colors, who stand and cheer their team in 20º snowy weather. They live, die, riot and/or abuse the spouse and kids based on their heroes win or loss.

These are the same idiots who plant little flags along the border of their property. Why? Best guess—they’re never quite sure what country they’re in. The flag border helps trigger their Swiss cheesed memory (dulled by too much beer had while near nekkid in 20º weather of course).

Me? I prefer a surprise. Did the house land in Germany last night or Japan? Who knows!

Bumpers, not the smartest place to show your ass.
MGH has a LOT of art on the walls. It’s in most if not all hallways, offices and waiting rooms. They’ve even got some up on the ceiling for when you’re lying back trying to focus on anything besides that cold probe that’s currently, uncomfortably up your hoo-ha.

It seems the more adventurous, interesting, fun art is in the areas where folks need the most distraction—like the chemo infusion waiting room. Smart, smart planning! The goats at right and left really appeal to me.

Which brings us to Yawkey 8E—the PERFECT place for a party!

The woman in the chemo cubby next to ours was having a loud, raucous party. No, really. Two of her friends joined her for the day's infusion. The only thing they lacked was a bottle of wine or six. Mind you, this is EXACTLY what I would do if it was me getting infused. What a great way to pass the time, calm the nerves and, just generally, de-fang the whole event.

As The Amazing Bob and I were crawling through homeward bound traffic, windows rolled all the way down in the unseasonal 83º temps, TAB felt the wind riffling though the baby chick, peach fuzzy hair on his head. He loved how it felt.

When all this very serious foofrah-ity began we were in blizzard hell. It was fitting that we ended on an optimistic, breezy, hot, sunny day.
BEST chemo view ever!

No comments:

Post a Comment