mozart's 250th

woke up at 6, drove to children's hospital for an ultrasound... they found a large cist on my remaining ovary. not thought to be cancer filled, but to be in the sure side i am testing lots of tests. I hate ultrasounds. my bladder sucks.
this little happening has had me more emotional than my already emotional self, on top of it being almost exactly the same time last year that i was told a similar (but far worse) thing...
Emily still doesn't have a bone marrow donor, im trying to help. sitting still hurts.
my dad has an infection. doctors dont know what it is, he has been in mass general all day in the emergency room.

my mum made cake to celebrate Mozart’s day of birth, it was not really enjoyed. we sang and listened to his entire requiem. the requiem strengthened the hurt so that instead of eating the cake i washed it away with tears.

to finish the day i planned to watch Amadeus, i've seen it too many times recently, so i went with immortal beloved. Beethoven is more attractive in that movie than Mozart is in his, that fricken laugh. imortal beloved is much more brutal. Amadeus is more beautiful.

Corey is attempting to win a trip to Vienna to have a week of Mozart-ness.

"we will speak in music."

You selfish fish! do you know hermann hesse?

This is not a story of woe as it might seem if you just read the first few sentences, it is a tale of me being utterly pissed with myself for using sick children to my own benefit...no woe though.
I was given a twenty dollar bill from my grandmother for being "kind."
After visiting the children's hospital, helping a friend named Emily feel less alone around the holidays, I had to pee so i stopped in to see my grandmother’s rest room.
I had to tell her why i was in town in the process of trying to get relief so she felt compelled that because i was helping a sick cancerous friend, i needed money.
What? I took it, it was 20 bucks, wouldn't you? but then i started thinking... was this for me, was i visiting these sick kids for my own benefit?

There are things you the reader, if you are reading (oh you readers you), should know. I was sick with Cancer myself last year, I am fine now, but being sick at a young age i was treated in a children's hospital where i met other sick children that i care VERY VERY much for. God, i can't say enough about them... but im not going to say anything more. Emily in particular was in remission and while she was better we got to know one another more and spent fun times together not sick and all that jazz, she is a great person, an artist as well. She has recently relapsed so that was the reason for her being in the hospital again and my reason for visiting.

Do I visit them for myself though? Human beings do everything for themselves, right? maybe?
I do get something selfish out of visiting sick children.
Hermann Hesse pointed it out.
When I see a friend sick, in bed, with cancer and an IV stuck into them, taking their life, which then gives their life back to them... oh chemotherapy how you confuse me so... I feel two distinct emotions that i get a high from. 1. happiness. I am helping a friend and they are smiling and not alone for the moment and have someone to talk to who knows what they are feeling. I am using knowledge i have to help, access i have to help. 2. sadness. I am visiting a sick friend who may not know the outcome of what they are going through and i know some of the pain they are experiencing because i went through it too, and the memories oh the memories that resurface. i wish i could help these friends these "patients," but there is little i can do besides keep company.
A day that was a good day, a day that i learned something from, I lived in, is a day that I was either incredibly happy or ridiculously depressed. Either being high or low, no in the middle is where one feels they have lived.

" When I have neither pleasure nor pain and have been breathing for a while the lukewarm insipid air of these so-called good and tolerable days, I feel so bad in my childish soul that I smash my moldering lyre of thanksgiving in the face of the slumbering god of contentment and would rather feel the very devil burn in me than this warmth of well-heated room." -Hermann Hesse
Oh, he goes on beautifully on and on and i would write it if i were a typist and cared for the no one that was reading this... but i am not and i don't.

I feel either both these extremes at once when i care for these people or i either get a swoosh of extreme happiness from being with them or i find out some distressing news or they are just too sick to be around and my heart is so smooshed that I feel that sadness that can't really even be put into words, by me at least, who is not a writer.
I do get a high.
I think it is why when i think about my past and the people now who are trying to fight cancer or those friends who have died, that i sit and go deeper into these thoughts and sadness and depression because i feel like i am living more...when i feel soooo much. but am i? i dont know.

I don't mean for this to sound selfish, it is, and we are... so i guess it is meant to sound selfish. i do love these kids and am proud of those who are fighting and have fought and won. i am realizing now that I do not help for only their benefit though, so don't give me money or praise.

okay. i should stop stenching.

oh yeah. i have started playing harmonica again. blues helps keep me down.
Ive been burping and they taste like Chinese food yet I haven’t had any food that was Chinese for over a week…………………….