Hope Alone

Today I brought the Indigo Girls with me to do my chemotherapy. They were the perfect companions; they always know what to say and how to say it. Old friends since Jr. High, they’ve been with me through good times and bad over the past 20 years.

Right after my first chemo session in Seattle, I went and got 10 inches cut off my hair. The hairdresser asked me if I wanted to listen to music and said to give her a band I liked. It didn’t take any time at all for me to say, “Indigo Girls.” She typed their name into Pandora and as she was getting ready to make the first cut, the first song to come on was the Indigo Girl song called, “Secure Yourself.” As all my hair fell to the floor the words, "secure yourself to heaven, hold on tight, the night has come. Fasten up your earthy burdens, you have just begun.” drifted through the air. It was one of those near omen moments where I couldn’t laugh off the fact that I had cancer.

I hate to admit their music had been absent from my life the past few years. I hadn’t bought one of their albums since 2004 and just recently they came into my head and told my friend Cristina that I didn’t have any of their new stuff, so she quickly sent me some in the mail. It’s been so long since I’ve had new music. It brought me right back to high school. When I was fishing with my parents I would buy new CDs on a near weekly basis. I’d retreat to the fo’c’sle of the boat with a new CD and frantically rip the cellophane packaging off and then carefully lift the shiny new CD from its jewel case and place it in my Discman. I’d then remove the sleeve and unfold the crisp glossy paper, smelling its newness. I’d hit play on the CD and read each lyric, savoring the music and lyrics. I would listen to that CD over and over the whole 7 hours to the fishing grounds. When Cristina sent me the new CD, it rushed me right back to sitting on my bunk in the fo’c’sle. It made me feel great, made me feel young, made me feel healthy.

I’ve been having anxiety about the looming date of April 16th when I have a PET scan to find out if my cancer is shrinking and the chemo is working. I feel better and a lot of my previous symptoms are diminishing, but there’s always the “what if?” Tamara told me today she’s only lost one patient out of ten who had Hodgkin’s. It was a young man, same age as me with three kids. The treatment just didn’t work for him and couldn’t save him.

I’ve also been upset about the fact that I’m not able to be present in things that are going on around me or be there for people who need me. I’ve noticed my friends and family gingerly sharing their tribulations with me (or not sharing them with me at all) as to not involve me or worry me. It bugs me because I’m may be not well, but I’m still here. And here I sit, dissolving my worries away by listening to the songs of the Indigo Girls.

I have two friends that share my love for the Indigo Girls, Cristina and Penny. Penny and I used to walk from our neighborhood of 2nd and 3rd avenue to downtown Ketchikan and back, about an hour long walk. We’d sing Indigo Girls songs the entire walk, often both launching into the harmony leaving the melody behind without anyone singing it, which inevitably sparked humorous arguments over who was going high and who was going low. Our favorite song is Watershed, a song about waking up and finding your best laid plans didn’t work out and now being faced with difficult choices on starting over. I miss those days and wish I could walk arm and arm up and down the streets of K-town with Penny Lane, without any cares in the world. I’d even let her sing all the harmonies.

Cristina and I met in college and instantly shared our fondness of the Indigo Girls. Our favorite song is Power Two, mostly because the first verse “Now the parking lot is empty, everyone’s gone somewhere.” My freshman year of college, Cristina and I had a similar moment on Easter weekend when we woke up to an empty Oregon State campus because all the other students went home for Easter. Being from SE Alaska Cristina and I were stuck with just each other, so we put on bunny ears and Groucho Marx glasses (our trademark) and drove to the coast and hit the Tillamook cheese factory, now tradition when we find ourselves together in Oregon. Even in my 30s, I’d be willing to don rabbit ears and Grouch Marx glasses to go sample cheese curds with a good friend.

So here I sit, listening to the Girls and thinking of my two friends far away. I’ve got my ear phones in my ears (now the music comes from my iPhone instead of a Discman) and I’m also wearing a tiara because I was nominated Valentine Queen by my sorority sisters. It’s like Penny, Cristina, Amy and Emily are all here with me cramped behind the infusion curtain. They are the best company I could ask for and they’re not even here.

My new favorite song by the Girls is Fleet of Hope. I think it’s going to be by cancer mantra song.
The chorus goes:
‘Cause the fleet of hope is so pretty when she’s shining in the port.
And the harbor clings to the jetty for protection and support.
Out in the choppier waters the sharks swim and play
You’re all washed up when Poseidon has his day.

(I like to think of Poseidon kicking the cancer cell’s ass.)

Hope. It’s all about hope now. Hope for a cure for cancer for those who are struggling more than me, hope that my tumors are shrinking and the cancer is leaving my body, hope for happier futures, hope for healing, hope for love and acceptance, hope to have a partner in crime (or bunny ears) when parking lots are empty. Hope, and hope alone.