Errand Boy

(ceiling fan noise)

Saigon . . .

I'm still only in Saigon.

Everytime I think I'm gonna wake up back in the jungle.

When I was home after my first tour it was worse...

I'd wake up and there'd be nothing. When I was here I wanted

to be there. When I was there, all I could think of was getting

back into the jungle. 

(sounds of mosquitoes, motorcycles on the streets)

I'm here a week now, waiting for a mission. Getting softer. 

 Every minute I stay in this room I get softer. And every

 minute Charlie squats in the bush he gets stronger. Each

 time I looked around, the walls moved in a little tighter.

Sitar music starts to play softly at first and then louder as

 the madness grows. Gradually the music is recognizable as

 THE END by THE DOORS.

I go crazy, striking martial arts poses and break mirrors,

 break pictures and destroy vases with dead flowers. In my

 small dirty Saigon hotel room I think I am being attacked

 by the VC. I collapse.

Why was I back in Saigon?

 I wanted a mission. And for my sins they gave it to me.

 Brought it up to me like room service. It was a real choice

mission. And when it was over, I'd never want another.

                                                                                                       APOCALYPSE NOW 1979

This is what it feel like taking care of someone with cancer. It's like getting a mission, thinking you are ready and then realizing that nothing ever prepared you for it. You want to strike out against something. The cancer and the chemo that's making your wife so sick she spends all her time in bed. It eventually makes you want to spend all day in bed. Sapping every bit of energy from you. There is no striking out but the walls DO close in. Your hands DO get cut when you break the mirrors. The mission feels futile, long and you hope you can make it to Cambodia to confront Colonel Kurtz. Will I have the courage to kill him? I am being ferried up the river to Cambodia 2 click north of the Du Long bridge in the upper outer quadrant of the right breast 5 and 10 cm from nipple at 10 o'clock by a team of medical oncologists. They tell me the mission is routine. They've been to Cambodia before. They've even been to Laos. How can this be? There were treaties signed. But this is where the cancer waits. We're not even supposed to be in Cambodia, but this cancer, Colonel Kurtz is up there operating without any restraint. He must be terminated. My resolve remains strong. Even though my mind and body are weak.

I have sympathy-chemo fatigue and residual meninigitis headaches. I want to stay in bed all day with Selena too. Thank God for Mum being here because I am not much help right now. As a caregiver I would have to rate myself a zero except that I love Selena with all my heart and soul and try to do anything I can to help her feel more comfortable. This must count for something. My head drugs cloud my mind and I don't know what I am saying too much so I will close.

I watched a snail crawl along the edge of a straight razor. 

That's my dream, it's my nightmare. 

Crawling, slipping along the edge of a straight razor and surviving....

I make no apologies for this entry. I am hurting and sad. Selena is feeling very bad, she has been in bed for many, many days, feels terrible, can't eat, can't watch TV, can't read, listen to a book on tape, listen to me read to her. She is a zombie. I was able to get her out of the house for 1 hour today to get to eat about 3 bites of a gyro down town at THE MEDITERRANEAN CHEF RESTAURANT. She couldn't taste it and didn't enjoy it. We parked right in front so she only had to walk a few step and it got her out into the fresh air for a little bit. She slept the rest of the day. I am sad and high.