Story time

*Harry Potter spoiler ahead*

 I am astounded that I've never related this memory here before (and I checked), but as I need to reference it, get ready for story time.

My friends Rich, Wendy, Heather and I were assigned to the same elementary school for our spring semester of pre-student teaching. It required driving from State College, PA where Penn State Main Campus is to Altoona. I can't remember how many days a week we did it, but we had a great comradery (huh, I always thought that was spelled with an ie... who knew?) and the car rides were always a hoot. Wendy drove an old Bronco that was sans the inside roof fabric and had handprints etched into the ceiling. She also claimed she had to sing to it to get it started in cold weather, but I never got to confirm that because they came to pick me up. 

Around Easter, someone brought a package of colorful marshmallow peeps. We didn't open them that morning, and I don't remember if they were left in the car for consumption that afternoon or if they were inadvertently forgotten there, but when we came out after school that fateful sunny day they were, sadly... deceased. 

I remember Rich picking up the still-cellophane-wrapped box, tilting it one direction and then the other, all of us watching as the colorful ooze inside slid from one side to the other, and laughing as he cried, "sweet, sweet, innocent peeps!" It became a descriptor for other "poor, unfortunate souls" as Ursula croons in "The Little Mermaid." We have used it throughout our marriage and laughed when something melted, broke, or otherwise gave up the ghost. Sometimes our kids even use it.

I was thinking about Harry Potter's friend Ron and musing about how he is such a "sweet, sweet, innocent peep" in how oblivious he is to what is actually going on in others' heads. There is a fantastic example of this in The Order of the Phoenix which spawned another quote our family uses about "the emotional range of a teaspoon". Spoilers ahead for any of you non-Potter fans, apologies, and all credit goes to J.K. Rowling, not me:

Hermione sighed and laid down her quill.

"Well, obviously, she's feeling very sad, because of Cedric dying. Then I expect she's feeling confused because she liked Cedric and now she likes Harry, and she can't work out who she likes best. Then she'll be feeling guilty, thinking it's an insult to Cedric's memory to be kissing Harry at all, and she'll be worrying about what everyone else might say about her if she starts going out with Harry. And she probably can't work out what her feelings towards Harry are anyway, because he was the one who was with Cedric when Cedric died, so that's all very mixed up and painful. Oh, and she's afraid she's going to be thrown off the Ravenclaw Quidditch team because she's been flying so badly."

A slightly stunned silence greeted the end of this speech, and then Ron said, "One person can't feel all that at once, they'd explode."

"Just because you've got the emotional range of a teaspoon doesn't mean we all have," said Hermione nastily, picking up her quill again. 

What in the world does all of any of that have to do with life right now? Fair question.

People have been asking how I'm doing and how I'm feeling. I've been laughing about Ron's reply because that's exactly what my brain is doing- fairly exploding over all the things I'm thinking and feeling. For instance, today I'm elated that very soon I'll not have a tumor in me any more! Medical professionals at every kind of appointment ask if I have any pain. It's not so much pain as a mental image of it slowly poisoning me. I bump up against in when I have things in my arms and I scowl at it. In my head it's so much bigger than it is in reality- as far as I know it's still under 2 cms in every direction. I'm kind of torn about asking to see it or at least pictures of it after the removal. I sort of want to face the enemy. Troublemaker. Take that, you squatter!

Back to my teaspoon running over.

I'm thrilled that it will be gone! And I'm super excited to hear, "your sentinel lymph nodes were clear! You're done!"  though that will still mean hormone therapy, at least.

And if I do hear, "we had to do the whole shebang" which will equal "and you'll need chemo" then I'll finally know that and can get on with planning for it. So much depends upon...

Either way, surgery will be over and behind me instead of looming in front of me. I can pivot to what needs to happen next as I behave myself and don't lift anything heavy and record the levels in my surgical drain and drink lots of water and get lots of rest and wait and wait and wait because healing takes foreeeeveeeeeeerrrrrrrr and I got Stuff To Do! I know we are human beings, not human doings, but the more I sit around the more tired I get. I'm glad that part of my recovery is walking! That is actually something I'm rather good at. *beaming proudly*

Lemme know if you wanna walk with me, even if you're in a separate time zone and thus have to do it in spirit (you know who you are), and we can set it up! 

Have a terrific Friday the 13th weekend, everybody!

*Again, I get zero credit for work done by J.K. Rowling and her Harry Potter series. Read them. They're so fun!

Rowling, J.K. (2003). Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. New York: Scholastic Press.