7/10

“In the sunset of dissolution, everything is illuminated by the aura of nostalgia, even the guillotine.”

-The Unbearable Lightness of Being.

I‘ve noticed that I’ll think I’m handling things pretty well, but then something tiny will make me way too upset. Like yesterday when the Cubs gave up 10 runs in the first inning my first thought breaking my phone and going back to bed. I was like am I really upset about baseball or is there something else…

I feel bad for any hypochondriacs who might know me. My story has got to be their worst nightmare. I must be the sum of all their fears. They’re like, “I know this guy he had stomach cramps turns out it was cancer, which is why I’m going to the emergency room for this runny nose. You don't this isn't a stroke and do not try and stop me.”

I just really hope people I know have been able to use my cancer as an excuse to get out of things. Nothing would make me happier than if a friend was late to work and told his boss, “Sorry, my friend just got some bad news.” Or if they had dinner plans with a couple they found annoying and they were like, “You know what- it’s time to use Davey.” And I’m not just saying that to be funny. I would genuinely love it.

Jaimie and I got stuck in the rain last week. It would have been really romantic but the only problem is we were stuck at Target. I was like, “I guess we can look at containers again.”

Here’s what happened: we had walked to Target. Which tells you everything you need to know about my neighborhood. In Brooklyn I could walk to coffee shops and restaurants, in Charleston I could walk to Waterfront Park and the Battery, in Atlanta I can walk to Target and Arby’s. We had walked there to pick up a few things for dinner and then, right as we were ready to check out, the sky opened up.

Now money is currently a little, how should we say…tight, so to be stuck in this mecca of consumerism, this holy temple of stuff, was frustrating on like three different levels:

1. As a liberal, I felt bad about being in a big box retail store.

2. As someone who is currently broke, I felt bad about my role as a provider.

3. As someone who has cancer, I felt bad that this is how I’m spending my precious time on the earth.

I looked outside the window, realized this rain wasn’t going to stop anytime soon, so I took these issues and meandered back inside the store.

My first stop was the book section. There, at eye level, was the Art of the Deal, by DJ Trump himself.

I picked up both copies. Started at those beady eyes for about 30 seconds, then quickly buried both of them behind a stack of Whole 30 Cookbooks. I did the same thing with Ivanka Trump’s book. Found an Idiot’s Guide to something or other and put them in the back. Just doing my part to #resist.

We then made our way to the sporting good section. I tried to get Jaimie to throw the baseball with me but she said, “I don’t like to catch,” and the 12 year old in me laughed.

We went up to the arts and crafts section, then over to home goods. We finally gave up and sat at the Starbucks and waited. By this time it was 8:45, which meant dinner wasn’t going to be ready until 9:30. Jaimie wanted to get a coffee and I judged her for it. I felt sad, trapped, lonely.

This little thing, blown out of proportion.

But now, three days later, I remember the trip to Target fondly. It was funny how I hid those Trump books. It was cute when Jaimie finally gave in and played catch with me. When the rain stopped there was a double rainbow over the giant Target parking lot.

I’m trying to remember that as I head into my seventh treatment this week. “In the sunset of dissolution, everything is illuminated by the aura of nostalgia, even the guillotine.”

Even things that suck, given a little time, don’t appear that bad. When I get through this I probably won’t think about feeling sick or the metallic taste in my mouth. I’ll remember the people and the out during of support. In a year I’ll forget being depressed because I was stuck at Target, but I won’t forget those rainbows.