Communique 1-6-2020 "This Too Shall Pass" Watching the Insurrection From The Chemo Lounge"
By Philip Drucker
Today is the day I begin my second round of chemo treatments. One session every two weeks for a total of twelve sessions. In the still ongoing quest for a 3.0 marker (I’m at 3.9 right now), continuing was not my first choice, but we do what we have to do, right? Change the Senate, save democracy all while drinking coffee through a straw (new Covid-19 safety restriction) waiting for lab results to come back and honestly, feeling so very hopeful for our nation in a way I have not felt for the last four years.
Among the many lessons I have learned over the past four years, in this instance applicable to both cancer and politics, funny how the two seem to go hand in hand, includes a newfound understanding and respect for persons who know the difference between acts of weakness and strength.
Recently, we have all had a front row and center seat to an administration that has no goals or ambitions other than abusing the trust we placed in them for their own personal benefit. Make no mistake, the Trump administration has been nothing short of an abject failure of good governance, and I use that term loosely, duty and common decency.
It is easy to lie, cheat and steal when self-interest is the only arbiter of one’s conduct. For these poor souls life is nothing but a never-ending toxic loop of wanting and never of having for there is always something else, some other flashy bauble or trophy wife/husband to chase after, catch and throwback. It is a hollow and abhorrent way to live with the virtual guarantee of a life amounting to a series of arrested developments and frustration.
No one person or consumer good, luxury vacation, expensive car, is ever fast enough, smart enough, or beautiful enough. No tower is tall enough. Soon, and this is where the situation goes from sad to tragic, the blame shifts. What was once the object of one’s desire becomes an instrument of disappointment. Another badge of emptiness, unfulfilled expectations and failure. Flashy and flamboyant become the standard masks that hide their inner turmoil and pain.
Always looking for that person, place or thing that will make them “happy”. Yet it never materializes because it, he or she does not exist. Happiness is a state of being. Regardless of your social position in life, you are either happy with who you are, possibly grateful for what you have accomplished or achieved, but in no circumstance can any outside influence “make” you happy. It simply doesn’t work that way.
Then it gets worse. As the disappointments mount and designer medications, alcohol consumption and binging whatever is available at the time becomes part of the daily lifestyle, the deals, deeds and casual depravity become as “normal” as brushing one’s teeth. Victimization becomes part and parcel of the daily drumbeat. “Oh, poor me” becomes “oh poor you” and the right to react, then over-react, retaliate if and as often as necessary results in a never-ending circle of self-fulfilling false prophesies.
As the mind, body and spirit deteriorate, the illusions, delusions and madness sets in. Right and wrong become concepts in the rear-view mirror. Eventually, self-hatred and rage are all that is left. Oblivious to this reality, the terror level elevated, the lashing out in blind retribution occur with greater frequency and ferocity. If not checked, once unthinkable thoughts become almost logical, and certainly nothing more than “the next step” in a now unrestrained by any hint of humanity or morality dance macabre.
If I am unhappy, you have to be unhappy. If I am hurting, you must hurt. If I am dying, you must die, first. Then I won’t have to die and fortunately, there will always be more victims to find along with more acts of desperation, derangement, derision, degradation with often deadly consequence to carry out.
Does this sound like anyone you know? Perhaps an orange fibbing blubber baboon balloon who is so far gone he can no longer differentiate between love and hate? Right and wrong or, life and death? Trump is a weak and truly pathetic figure. His “glory” resides in his destruction of others, sometimes innocent, sometimes not but in either case the end will be the same. Don’t kid yourself. In the world of Trump if it’s him or you, it’s always you with the only remaining question being who is next?
For there is always a next in line. Always someone trying to ride the tiger when they should be learning to ride the wind. Always. And on that note, my nurse is here, and the Doctor is waiting.
Funny how I was writing about strength and weakness for today, the news is not entirely good. My presence of cancer marker is up a bit from 3.9 to 4.4 and my liver is acting up again, a bit. Doctor assures me nothing to worry about, but it just goes to show, if any of you think I started this blog knowing I was going to be OK, well, that would not be true.
In the world of cancer, you take the good with the bad. One step forward is often followed by two steps backward. At the moment, I am disappointed, but not terribly scared. Have I been scared? You bet. Many times. An invisible killer inhabiting my body for no good reason that I know of. Of course, cancer and homicidal psychopathic maniacs don’t need a reason or excuse to do evil, bad and destructive things. They are like malignant dinosaurs and do what they do, to survive.
Do I blame cancer or some other natural phenomena of higher power for my problems? I did. It’s called the “why me?” phase, right? But, in my defense, I didn’t knife the guy in the chair next to me because it would make me feel better, or would it?
Admittedly, strength and weakness are hard to concepts to define. With cancer, every day I live is another day I win and being the best patient imaginable is a sure sign of strength of mind, body, spirit and character. Easy. But when dealing with a cancerous weakling like Trump, is there not a difference between holding him and his miscreant ships of losers and fools accountable for their dereliction of duty? Their abuse of the trust we gave to them and in all honestly, as an example to others who might similarly try to besmirch the Office of the Presidency for nothing more than blaming the American people for their own crimes, immorality and sins?
For in the final analysis, like all little punks who do nothing but blame others, refusing to take responsibility for their own bad actions, isn’t Trump giving us all the ultimate, “It’s all your fault, you made me do it?” excuse so common among the abusers among us? Accountability or revenge? The choice is yours. But either way, bitch got to pay, but We, the People do not need to demean ourselves in the process. Oh yeah, and fuck cancer. That’s easy. What a day. Homer sleep now.
Like My Blog? Buy My Book?