45 and 5

Hi Clusterfookers. It’s Nina, guest posting for the beautiful and talented Lisa while she recovers from chemotherapy.

This is my first ever quest post, and since Lisa gave me free reign, I have struggled to reign myself in. Should I write about Teenie’s announcement that she wants to become a Roman Catholic? Should I give some advice about how to cope when someone you adore has cancer? One thing is certain: writing a really funny post about cancer is out of the question because Adam Heath Avitable, that handsome devil, already out-funnied basically everything I could possibly have written. Thanks for that, Adam.

Upon reflection, I have decided to write about two things.

First, I am going to be the sanctimonious windbag who writes about faith and prayer. I am also (for just a moment) be that self-centered windbag who writes about her own issues on someone else’s blog.

I have much experience with cancer. My mom died of it when she was 52. Now, my dad is “dying” of leukemia. Why the quotation marks? Because he has not had any treatment whatsoever for his cancer – since April 2007. In September 2007, he was pronounced terminal and was told he had less than two weeks to live.

My dad, being wholly unpsyched about dying, decided to mobilize his family and friends– religious people, some, but many lapsed Catholics, lame Catholics (that would be me), observant Jews, secular Jews, Buddhists, a good handful of agnostics and zealous atheists, and I believe two radical Muslim colleagues. He asked everyone to pray. Not for a painless death or the repose of his soul. He had the courage to ask them for a miracle. He asked them to join him in praying for his recovery.

My dad is alive ten months later. Aside from some lingering side effects of the chemo, he is well. Even his doctors don’t understand how that could have happened.

This is the part of the post where I ask you, Clusterfook readers, to pray. It won’t take you but a minute. If you already have a faith tradition, you have a good script for the prayer. If you don’t have a faith tradition and you are an avowed atheist, try something like:

“Dear “God”, I don’t believe in you or anything close to it, but because Nina asked on Lisa’s behalf, please fix this situation with the cancer. Thank you in advance, even though I don’t believe in you. At. All.”

Believe it or not, that kind of prayer still counts. (As does raising up a glass of good chianti and saying “Here’s to Lisa!” We have run that experiment on my dad’s cancer, too. Very effective, as it turns out).

The second thing I want to write about is money. One of Lisa’s ongoing concerns is that she has lost her job and is being denied unemployment – essentially because she declined to use her college degree to accept a customer service job that even a hamster could perform. When Lisa gets a break from all the anxiety of having cancer, all those worries about money come rushing in like rabid animals and turn her break time into even more worrying about how she is going to keep her family housed and fed and functioning.

Fookers, when a gal has cancer, two small children, no hair, nausea and profound fatigue , plus a romance to maintain with a guy named Dude, AND she has to worry about the cost of a cup of coffee – that is a lot of unfun for one gal.

Fookers, I humbly ask you, even if you have given before – even if you bought a bracelet already – even if you donated to the cause of the yoga classes at the cancer center – even if you are yourself currently broke and nomadic – to hit that donate button and throw $5 more into the Fook Fund. No matter who you are, you are not going to miss five bucks, and every dollar Lisa gets not only helps keep her family afloat, but it will help Lisa worry less about money. And if there is one thing I know about cancer, worry is its number one fuel. Let’s fight the cancer on two fronts:

1) Throw a prayer into your day for Lisa’s recovery.
2) Throw $5 into Lisa’s jar to help keep focus on that recovery rather the cost of a latte.

Thank you for reading – (and please, don’t embarrass me by showing up here and not saying the 45 second prayer and not parting with that five bucks. You have 45 seconds and even if you are pushing a shopping cart around under a bridge, you can spare the five. The link is up there on the left under “Pages” – click donations. Do it for Lisa. Do it for me. And it that isn’t enough reason, do it for my dad, who is living proof that love and prayer saves lives).