So, (and as my loyal followers know, all good blogs start in “So” or “Ok”) you all remember a week and a half ago when I had that flesh eating virus? Thank you for your cards and letters, yes, it did turn out to be a real situation so I was not crazy. Now remember the little chit chat I had with my loyal associate and BFF, Teresa, my PHYSICIAN and MAID OF HONOR at my wedding? I see “T” for a quicky lunch the other day with one of our other college friends and it goes something like this. I KID YOU NOT.
Alison: “Hey Marl, so I hear the book is out! Congrats, Ryan is buying it.” (Note: She did not say that she was buying it, just her husband who clearly feels guilty because I am the only reason he snagged Alison in the first place. Then he complained when I told him to get the hardcover vs. the paperback.)
Me: “Yes, I’m super excited. Took long enough, but yes, it’s finally on Amazon.”
Teresa (the PHYSICIAN, FRIEND and MAID OF HONOR): “You have a book out?”
Me: Holy God above, I swear I almost lost it right there. “Teresa, yes, I have a book out. Do you remember 10 days ago when I went to see you with an EMERGENCY FLESH EATING VIRUS? This virus was about to kill me, me the new author who finally finished a damn project. I literally dropped everything and flew to UCLA for swabs and cultures and lab tests and, I thought, a memorable chat with my friend???” (Yes, a little sidecar of Botox, but that’s besides the point.)
T: “Wow, I didn’t know that.”
Me: “You didn’t know what? You didn’t know that I went to see you? That I almost died in your office? T, did you just hear anything I said? Do you remember diagnosing me with the flesh-eater? Or you just didn’t know about the book, that we discussed in detail since writing it almost sent me to the psychiatrist dredging up all of those old financial wounds?????”
T: “Oh yeah, I remember. For sure.” [This is comforting.]
My Notes: This was particularly encouraging, as you can imagine, coming from someone with whom I have entrusted my life. Clearly, just when my ego can try and make a little tiny, eensy, beensy triumph out of something after all of the nimrod challenging situations I’ve put myself through in the last year, my bff, PHYSICIAN and FRIEND has to bring me right back down to my teeny, tiny little self. OK fine, I didn’t graduate first in my medical school class. I don’t rid Presidents of skin cancer, major Vegas players don’t have me on speed dial, but still.
How about some love?
And did I mention that one of the two prescribed medications for my LESIONS, the ones on my face that make me look like I have leprosy, those LESIONS, one of the medicines shows up to my doorstep for acne. ACNE??? What the? Does this woman know nothing about viruses? Acne? I could’ve called Jessica Simpson and ordered some Proactiv if it was only acne! Whatever. Meanwhile, my wounds continue. Maybe I should sue her. Then she would remember me, right? I could go postal at UCLA, demand Botox and a little extra laser treatment action for my face while I force her to get excited by my accomplishments? I kind of don’t think so. OK, close chapter on flesh eater…
I’ve got another good blog brewing so check back in the next couple of days, but at least you know I’m still alive…
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