On cancer.

What do you do when one of your family members tells you that their cancer came back, that it is agressive, and that they have mere weeks (to months) to live?

This happened just moments ago. I feel paralyzed.

On sickness.

I think I threw up 20 distinct times today. The latest being not that late ago. As a direct causation of that, my heart is still a little racy and my body is still a little sweaty. And I want my mom. Or I guess anyone to hold back my hair, wipe my forehead, encourage me to take tiny sips of water, feed me bland food (and/or popcycles) when I'm ready, and tell me it will be okay.

Spencer has been at school all day, so I have held back my own hair, wiped my own forehead, encouraged myself to take tiny sips of water (which I promptly threw back up), mustered all of the courage I had to again get out of bed and take a (thankfully) soothing bath, climbed on top of a chair to reach the Ritz crackers (which was the blandest food we had, and was, unfortunately like the water, not bland enough), and told myself it would be okay, despite the continued vomiting. I also managed to read several excellent articles from old dialogue issues. My favorite was by Claudia Bushman, and was on her "short happy time at Exponent II."

I am praying I will a. be able to fall asleep, and b. not feel wretched tomorrow. It is supposed to be a big day.

This was me, pretty much all day today.

Chug. Chug. Chug.

(Please sickness, please go away.)