So as it turns out I am not going almost home.
My wife's company reversed itself and decided not to transfer her back to Columbus, Ohio. I can honestly say that I have never been so heartbroken in all of my life. I have not had the stomach to sit down and write as these changes of events have left me more confused than perhaps I have ever been in my 44 years. At least while I have been sober. The prospect of going home or near home allowed me to entertain thoughts that would have led to madness had I let them run wild through my head while I was exiled for an indeterminate sentence.
I cannot forget the happy plans I made and now I am the sadder for having been so teased.
“Why don't you just go home and work it out once you get there if you are so unhappy?” Because life is complicated and I have promises to keep. They are promises that a nineteen year old boy made long ago but they are promises none-the-less.
I do try to look on the sunny side. I got a brand new Toyota Tacoma to salve my wounded heart. By now I should know that I am screwed when she buys me a truck. It is a nice truck and it comes in handy for maintaining my golden prison. The stereo speakers are absolutely the worst in the history of car audio but somehow Johnny Cash, Dwight Yoakam and John Prine sound all the more mournful from a buzzing 6X9.
I also figured that I may as well go for my long delayed doctors' visits since I wasn't going to be finding a new set of doctors in Columbus. I reckon it was a good thing. My heart although being broken and a bit older is working fine as is my prostate. The dermatologist, however noticed a spot on my left temple. Squamous cell carcinoma. Tobacco and hay fields and my first real job as a teenage gravedigger finally caught up with me. Driving around with my truck window down in the summer and Marlboro reds probably didn't help. As skin cancer goes it is the middle one. It is not near as bad as melanoma but more dangerous than basal cell carcinoma. The kicker is that I had a GP remove it an biopsy it some eight years ago. He said it was an age spot: a simple keratosis . Sorry Dr. Skippy but a 35 year old guy shouldn't have age spots and a keratosis probably runs a good chance of being Bowen's disease which is an early form of squamous cell carcinoma. In addition one of the risk factors for having the lesion metastasize is a botched excision by a Dr. Skippy.
Needless to say the spot came back but I just operated under the impression that it was an age spot not knowing that these things can sit for years before turning into squamous cell carcinoma. Luckily this carcinoma must be fairly early in its stages since the doctor isn't cutting it out and is treating it with the aptly named chemotherapy agent, 5-FU. This is Clearasil for Cancer. I have another week and a half of treatment before I go back to the doctor. The only side effect has been a bad taste in my mouth. Kind of like licking a 9 volt without the zap.
I know I am kidding myself. Being stuck here has not saved my life. The “age spot” sat there for eight years without eating my face and I am sure it would have kept its ravenous cells in check long enough for me to have made an appointment with my mom's dermatologist in Ohio.
But I have to lie to myself to get through these days.