The lonely road

I have been doing a little experiment with flash fiction, short stories under 400 words. In my opinion, this flash was my best written.

The Lonely Road

If you want to read more of my flashes, look here at Helium.

Just Getting Started–Writing Prompt

Anne Lamott wrote a writing book called “Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life.” My good friend, Lynn, gave me this book. In my mind it seems she gave it to me when I was lost in illness.

It was that first year of Wegener’s Granulomatosis. We were living with my brother, while I was going to inpatient treatment for my cytoxan infusions. One week before my first Las Vegas infusion, I went to Quest Diagnostic to have my labs drawn. They wanted to see if my white blood cells were “normal.” If they were too high or too low, I might not be able to have the infusion. It was a scary situation because I would not wish this treatment on an enemy. However, without the treatment, I would die. It was that simple. So I endured the treatment. I endured having my blood taken out of my veins.

When I had my first infusion in Germany, I cried. In Germany, when you are in the hospital, you are not given a choice of treatment like you do in the U.S. The doctor walked into my room. I was lying on a hospital bed: it was like any bed you would see in any hospital around the world. She asked me if I was ready for the infusion.

“What is it?” I asked. I was lethargic. Each day I became weaker and weaker.

“Cychlophosphamide.” She said. She prepared the I.V. that had been threaded through a vein in my elbow. She cleaned it and connected it to the I.V. bag.

“What is it?” I repeated.

The doctor looked at me. “They didn’t inform you of the side-effects?”

I shook my head no. You see I was in a German hospital. I had some basic German conversational skills, but the nurses didn’t like to explain medical terminology to me. They knew that it would be a long hard road and in the end I would probably misunderstand. At least the doctors had to speak English.

So the doctor sighed, and began the list of side-effects. All I heard was that I would lose my fertility. I know. I know. I never wanted children. I was the oldest of nine. My parents had trained me to be the housekeeper and nanny. I even had a stint as a schoolteacher when they pulled us out of school. I could never understand why one of my brothers, even when I spent hours and hours helping him, that he still couldn’t read. I learned the answer just a few years ago. He is dyslexic. But, I was punished for my inability to teach him.

But, when I heard that I could never have children and that the choice had been taken from me, I felt a huge hand squeeze my heart. I would never have children.

The doctor watched me, my eyes brighter from the gleam of tears. “You refuse treatment?” she asked me. “I can give you a few minutes to decide.”

“No,” I said. “I don’t refuse treatment.”

The tears welled, but I held them back during the infusion which lasted almost four hours. I held them back until the doctor, who was monitoring my progress, unhooked the infusion equipment–then I mourned.

Talk Thursday: Desire

I was wandering through my blogroll and stepped into Sideon Sanctuary’s post on Desire. Oh yea, baby, I was entranced. It took me back to the days of being a sailor in the U.S. Navy, working in NSGA as a CTM. (Translation: NSGA is Naval Security Group Activity; CTM is Cryptologic Technician Maintenance.)

I was in Japan and if I had a Saturday off (I worked a really weird shift), I would go to the club to dance. I would dance by myself or with my friends until the sweat would pour down my hair and back. I was full of joy.

One day, I had just come off the dance floor when a Marine who had been watching me grabbed my arm at the elbow and turned me to him. I was amazed at the adaucity of this young man. I was at least five years older at thirty.

There was none of the careful dance between two people as they get to know each other. There was no “can I buy you a drink or let’s go to dinner.” No, he just kissed me.

I am not the type of person that you just kiss. I can be forbidding. I can hurt you. One time, when a young sailor tried to hug me from behind and pull me to him, I dropped him with one hand movement.

But this time, I just laughed. I pulled away and kept on dancing.