So what should I bring to the party?
"Hugs"
This was the "tell all his Toronto friends that he has a brain tumour" party.
I brought hugs. And back scritches. And hugs for the drinking vodka-by-the-pint girlfriend.
I played with baby. I met local Toronto geeks.
I brought hugs.
When I was too twitchy to be hugging I was running my fingers along a patiently still-sitting Mr. Pyke, despite the army of cats threading their way through the living room in the token "we know you're allergic you bastard" dance.
I'm laughing inside, really.
But at least something inside is moving, and this is significant.
But not as significant as the pain he's going through, the side effects of medication, the demands of the people around him, the fact that nobody actually knows anything for sure but they're going to be starting very agressive treatments in a few weeks.
The hardest part, he says, is telling people because it drives the point home and the looks on their faces wake up the same raw feelings as the first time he found out after having gone in to find out why his vision was doubling.
Aside from that, he and the girl are "getting used to the idea", as she put it, as opposed to "accepting the reality of it".
Either way, in a month or so we'll be seeing his chin for the first time without his token beard.
I think I made that joke one too many times when my veneer shimmered. I'm sorry.
But he said to bring hugs, and I brought 'em. By the fistful.
And I promised to supply, uh, the stuff, for the after-party.
The one where he starts growing his hair back.
Happy Friday, everyone. One of my favourite huggers has brain cancer.
How's your day been?
I baked the world's worst peanut butter cookies and went shopping on Queen Street and bought a chrome collar and purple nail polish and hung out at the caf� and then I went to this party and the guy who promised that he understood I was in a monogamous relationship insisted on greeting me with "hey sexy" and making raucous comments about "me in that dress" anyway. He wants me to join his choir.
One of my favourite huggers is going to get over this silly little lymphoma or I'm going to kick his geek ass.