Swearing & Me
Posted October 28, 2016on:
This being the first blog post I’ve had as Pinky Pie since 2012, when I thought to put this cancer thing aside, I want to talk about swearing, which of course brings up lots of stories. What doesn’t bring up stories with me?
The first is about when I was in the fourth grade and Lisa U and I wrote swear words on pieces of paper and dropped them on the floor by our desks. We were not criminals at heart. Anyway, we used the S, H and D words, not the F word, which I’m pretty sure we did not know.
Our punishment at getting caught was to tell our parents. When I told my mom, and I can still picture the scene, she tried to hide her smile. She appreciated my honesty.
She, like me, loved Scrabble, a game my parents played from the time it was invented until Dad died. One of the great stories about my mom is that she had the coveted seven letter word to put down, but the only way she could play it was by putting an S in front of hit. She wouldn’t do it. Later in life she told me that she p0robably would.
The next story is that the password for this blog that I set in 2009 involved the F word and cancer. That was my little joke and cancer is worthy of the F word. That was not a problem until I started using it with my phone in general. And I needed to take it to a technician who asked me for the password for my phone. Being delicate and all , I wrote it down and gave it to him. He smiled, looked at me, and looked down at the paper again. I told him I knew it would be a great story tonight.
And now to the 900-pound cancer in the room. As I’ve emailed and talked to people, I noticed there was use of a variety of swear words. I myself kept saying shit to my doctor and apologizing. I have enjoyed – as only I can – the use of words that people have used in response to the announcement of the return of the nasty thing. All those words have appeared. And I have been amused that some have said when I posted my announcement on Facebook that they used such language and were proud to say it.
I’m guessing that many if not all of us were raised by parents who frowned on such words in their children, but we have grown to sue them. And shit, damn and hell, there are times to use them. I believe this is it.
Someone asked how I am doing, actually, many people have. I alternate between tears and jokes, which I think is pretty much what you would expect of me.
When my body goes low, I go high. I do believe we need to be kind to each other – but not to cancer.
Thank you for all your support and love.