Jul 14, 2007


UPDATE: I'm back. I don't have breast (or any other) fucking cancer. And, if ever anyone wants to stick a needle into your boob, see if you can negotiate that. Kidding. Very kidding. it sucked, but it felt good to leave knowing the 411. Anyway, it's a relief. The sun is shining today, so I'm going to go enjoy it. But, go ahead and read this post, all that was on my mind before I knew that.

You know how people have big life-changing experiences, and say they've changed forever and can't take another day for granted, but then a few weeks or months down the road, they're right back to being a self-involved düsh? I wonder what the world would be like if we really did learn and grow from terrifying experiences? What if, when things happened to us that frightened us to the bones, it really did become the very last day we ever took for granted?

I didn't sit down to blog this morning. I sat down to just write. But, as I started to write, it felt like a blog post to me. So, here we are.

I'm having a follow-up blood test in about two hours. I am healthy; I don't have any reason to worry. I have a predisposition from the ol' gene pool, so I am proactive and screen routinely and it's always been totally fine. It's probably just an error this time. No biggie at all. It's nice when people say Oh, it'll be fine, and it probably will be, but I have, after all, lived long enough to know that sometimes healthy people get sick, and sometimes bad things happen to good people, as the cliche goes. It's probably 95% likely that I am healthy as can be. But, you know how it goes, people do sometimes get sick, people do sometimes get bad news, routine health screenings are how bad things get caught and subsequently dealt with. So, I'm not freaking out, thinking this is a big drama. No, I'm really just sort of thinking of the possibilities, which I think is pretty human. If today brings ungood news, I am going to deal with it and not be a wimp or succumb to negativity or any of that shit. If there is any ungood news at all, which there probably will not be.

But, who wouldn't play the what-if game? Mermaidhead will read this, working in the medical field as she does, and roll her eyes and tell me it's nothing and tell me to educate myself. Which I have, to the best of my ability. Of course it probably is nothing, but it's not impossible that it's more than nothing. Not impossible.

But there isn't anything I can do about it right now, two hours before this blood test, except do what I do best... get it out, write it down, write it out.

I went to shul last night. I didn't mean to. I mean, wait, okay. I was going to go to shul and get a little dinner with Leah, then I cancelled because I wasn't feeling like I would be good company, and this news of possibility was only a few hours fresh to me, so I was iddly about it and feeling tired under its weight. So, I cancelled, and started walking. I walked and walked and ended up in front of a different Temple and services were about to happen, so I went in. It's like I always say: I don't go to services to beg for divine favors from the ether, I go to sit and just be and think and see how I fit into the world and its situations and how I can best think of my circumstances, how quickly circumstances could change, be glad for things as they are, get a little perspective, find a strange comfort of connectedness in the familiar Hebrew filling the room that I know by heart, and to feel a group of people around me-- not just the people in the room, not even just Jews, per se, but the people that I know and the people that I probably don't even realize care for me as much as they do. Sometimes sitting in a room full of people makes me feel isolated and awkward, but other times, it reminds me I have friends and family and chosen-family all over the place that love me and have my back, and if the shit hits the fan today, or if the shit does not hit the fan today, I'll do whatever needs to be done and work it out and I'll be okay.

I sat near the back and felt calmed as the Rabbi sang the familiar Hebrew. As she (the Rabbi) moved from tune to tune, I was shocked to hear a man following along, horribly and loudly. People turned around to smirk and hear this guy belting everything out, myself included, but really, as I sat there, I started thinking about this guy. He didn't give a rat's ass how well he sang, or who heard him, or what ears he offended. He was committed to being there and being completely uninhibited and singing with chutzpah and getting into what he was doing.

Maybe he already had a life-changing experience and really did change forever and decided there was no point in being pastel, in doing things half-heartedly. Maybe, he spent years wishing he could sing out and never did and one day he said fuck it and went for it and never thought twice...? Maybe so.

I left and started home and the air was cool and nice and smelled sweet like summer is supposed to smell, or how I remember it smelling when I was a kid. As I was nearly home, I saw a car with a bumper sticker that only said love wins, and although it really didn't have anything to do with me, it did and it made me glad to have seen it, like seeing a familiar face in a crowd.

Anyway. Wish me luck. You guys know how I fucking hate the fucking fuck out of needles. And bad news.

On second thought, I don't need luck. It's going to be fine. No matter what.


jewgirl said...

beautiful. you are in my thoughts. you will be better than ok, you'll be great. this is what I know.

Anonymous said...

Mermaidhead is not the only one who will roll their eyes back into the Corpus Collasum.

If you should have a epiphanic experience and you are frightened to the bones and you decide to experience many different types of men before you should cark it, may I take advantage of your current love affair with all things Canadian and offer myself?

Wings - john k said...

Lots of thoughts, prayers and love

Nicky said...

how about karma? I'm not much with luck but I can send good vibes your way til the cows come home.

*.....goooooood viiiiiibes.....*

Diane's Mom said...

Good to know that all is well, Amy. You hold a special place in my heart. :)

orieyenta said...

Glad to hear that everything is ok.

As for that guy singing at shul...didn't you for just an itty bitty second wish there was a moment when you had that chutzpah to think, "who the heck cares what anyone else thinks"? I sure do.

Adam Deutsch said...

A healthy Ms.Güth is a good Ms.Güth. Stay well, and we'll see you soon enough.

David Byck said...

It’s strange isn’t it Amy – that when we open ourselves to the universe (wow I sound like a hippie) we look at things in a different way. I can see it now, just below the header of some legal firm downtown: Suit for the distress and suffering caused by improper laboratory testing. But instead you see the misdiagnosis as an opportunity to take stock and remember life for what it is … a blessing and a gift.

Thank you for sharing your experience with us. Maybe it gave us the opportunity to reevaluate our own lives or at least, remind us to go for an annual check-up.

I’m glad to hear you are well, my friend.

Take care and peace,


jewgirl said...

thank god you are ok, my sweet! thank god.

KELSO'S NUTS said...

I've just come to know you from jewgirl's blog and you can take my bruchas to the bank and borrow against them. I hadn't read this post when I commented on jewgirl's site that the only TRUE Jewish curses are "cancer" and "Hitler." I had no idea how terribly ironic I was being. Please be healthy. K?

Beyond bruchas the best I can do is say that from your account you are a big favorite to be negative, but even a trivial probability of not being healthy is scary shit.

Please be healthy.

Amy Guth said...

RS, you charmer, you. Har.

Jewgirl, Wingy, Nicky, Diane's Mama, Adam D., David and Kelso's Nuts-- thank you.

Orieyenta, yes I do. For real.

You guys are really great. Thank you.

Anonymous said...

Well Amy dahling, if I am anything I am charming.
Mind there is no substance behind my idle chatter, but I make dazzling arm candy at any gathering where you should require such.

ALT - [f r a m e s] said...

I can't pray for you, but I can hope for the best...

I need to get your book. I like your writing.

Bubs said...

I'm glad you're ok.

That was one of the most beautiful descriptions of being in a house of worship I've ever read. You captured it perfectly, and your sense of connectedness, and the man singing and your awareness and understanding of him...beautiful.

Yo, Yenta said...

Good Lord, woman, you sure can write. From one genetically-dangerous Jewish girl to another, needles in the boob do indeed suck.

Dr. Monkey Von Monkerstein said...

Even though I don't really know you, I am so happy there is nothing wrong. Also you may want to check out my post where I name my vice presidential running mate, you were on the short list.

Johnny Yen said...

I cheated and read ahead to the next post-- I'm so glad you're okay.

I loved your description of the guy singing unabashedly in the synagogue. I'm trying to remember a saying I saw-- something like "dance like nobody's looking, sing like nobody cares" or something like that. Life is too short not to do what you love.