Artist and writer, Fanny Banny, talks about "The Point" in her terrific memoir piece. Another "Best of the Memoir Writing Conference 2012". Grab a cuppa Joe and enjoy!

The Point

By

Fanny Barry

Fanny Barry writes, paints and teaches yoga in Tulum Mexico.

 

I closed the door of the phone booth and felt the remoteness of where I had chosen to live.  My house had no signal for a cell phone and “land lines” were only available in the pueblo, 20 minutes away. I liked being out of touch yet sometimes I needed someone. I dialed my mom, waited and hung up just before the click for voicemail.  I left the “casita telefonica”, little house of phones, and shuffled down the nearly empty, dusty Avenida Tulum, and recalled phone conversations from just more than a year before. 

“It is cancer Mom. Sorry.” I felt badly. 

“Oh my,” she said and then, “Don’t be silly Joanne. Nothing to be sorry about.”  Her voice cracked as she asked.  “What did they say?”

“They called me this afternoon and told me, just like that,” I said, starting to cry.

“Are you ok?  Want me to come see you?” she asked.

“No.” I fought tears.  “No Mom, it’s late. Is Calzi there?” I asked.

“She is, of course, sweetheart.  Talk to the nurse.”  Calzi was also my sister and best friend.  “But if you need anything, just call.  I’m here”, she reminded me.

“Thanks Mom,” I meant it.

As she passed the phone, I started to cry.

“Hey Fans what is up?  Mom looked worried.”

“I have cancer, Calzi.  Can you believe it? Fuck sake.  They said ‘metastatic’,” I blurted through tears.

She said softly, “Shit,” and paused before she asked slowly. “What exactly did they say?”

“Well, I know they said that word because I asked about it.  But I mean, to tell me that on the phone. What the fuck?” I knew I could confide in her.

“I am sure there is more to it,” she said confidently.

“They’ll call tomorrow.  But shit.  Really, doesn’t metastatic mean everywhere?” I had to know.

“Depends Fans. Don’t worry,” she said and then followed with, “Shit. Want me to come up?  Are you ok?” 

I had not been afraid but now I felt unsure.

“I am a mess but I am ok.  I mean, what can I do, right?  She told me to call a surgeon.”  I started to cry.  “Like I have one. It is so messed up.”  I took a deep breath, “Yeah, I guess you could say I am a little freaked out.”

“Understandable”, she said and then, “I cannot believe she would tell you that on the phone.”

“Me neither,” I agreed.

Calzi continued, “Well, get some rest and call me tomorrow after you hear, ok?”

“Okay,” I said and then, “Calzi?”

“Yeah?” 

I hesitated and then asked, “Don’t tell anyone, ok?”

“Okay.  But why?” She sounded incredulous.

“ I don’t know.  Just don’t, O.K.?  Ask Mom not to as well, would you?  Not until we know.”  I was surprised, but I felt embarrassed and didn’t want anyone to know.

She didn’t understand.  “Stay cool, Fans.” she told me. “There are a million more things you need to know”.

“Really?” I needed to hear it again.

“Yes,” she said definitively and then followed with, “Shit, yes,” which somehow inspired much more confidence. “There are lots of different cancers and different metastatic cancers too. Okay?”

“Okay.”  I was a little more comfortable in my own skin.”

“You sure you will be alright on your own?” she asked me.

I loved that she cared about me.  “I’ll be okay.  I’ll be asleep before you could even get here.”

“I love you Fans.”

“Love you too Calzi.”

“Call me tomorrow,” she reminded me.

“Will do. Give Mom a smooch for me, okay?  Tell her I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.  You have nothing to be sorry for.  Now, go on.  I love you”, she said.

I was smiling when I hung up. 

The next day, Dr. K called me at work.  I forced myself to answer.  I was so afraid.

“Hello?” I said quietly.  I did not want anyone to hear through the thin walls of my cube.

“Ms. Barry?” Dr. K asked.

“Yes Dr. K?”

“The next series of tests determined it is only breast cancer.” she said almost happily.

My heart stopped pounding, “only breast cancer”.  I had hoped she would say it was all a mistake.

“Great,” I said, meaning it but not liking it, “Only breast cancer.  Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” she said sincerely and then, “We will forward the results to your primary care physician, Dr. Gleysteen, right?” 

“Yes,” I confirmed and then asked, “Is there something I should be doing?”

“Did you contact Dr. Koufman, the surgeon”, she asked.

 “Yes but I need a referral.”  The insurance companies had more than a few rules.

“Stay on top of it”, she cautioned.

“Okay.”  I mean, did anyone just forget that their doctor told them they had cancer?

“Good luck, Ms. Barry,”she said genuinely.

“Thanks very much.” 

I hung up and repeated, “Only breast cancer”.  I didn’t know what to do. Should I be happy?  I called Calzi and thought, “Breast cancer they can take care of, can’t they?”

“Only breast cancer.” I said when she picked up the phone and I started to laugh, a nervous silly laugh.

She asked me, “Fans, you ok?” 

“Yeah, just relieved.”  I couldn’t stop laughing.  “Funny how breast cancer could make me so happy.”

“Well, it is good news, relatively speaking.” she admitted.

“Everything is relative, as Dad used to say.  I am going to call Mom.”

“Yeah, call her. She needs to hear from you”, Calzi said.  “At least we can do something with breast cancer. Do you know what to do next?  I mean, what did they tell you?”

“To call a surgeon.”

“Do you have one you like?” she asked me.

“I have an appointment Friday.  But I need a referral.” I told her.

“Shouldn’t be hard to get. I’ll go with you” It was not a question.

“Are you sure Calzi.  I mean, it will take your whole day.”

“Fanny, don’t start.”, she nearly scolded.

“That would be great”, I said and then, “Thanks Calzi”.

“We can drive together.  What time?” She was all business.

“The appointment is at 2 on Beacon Street.” I was thrilled to have her help me.

“I will be there around one.  Love you, Fans.  Call if you need anything, ok?” she reminded me. 

“I love you too.”

We hung up and I walked outside to call my mom.

 “Sweetheart.  How are you?  Did they call?” she asked me.

“Yes. It is only breast cancer”, I hated that I had to tell her.

“Well,” she paused, “what do you need to do?”

“I’m not sure,” I answered honestly.

“Oh, darling.  Want me to come and have dinner with you?”

“I would love it,” I said to myself as I looked up at the blue sky and wished I were so close again.  All of a sudden, I didn’t understand why I was in this hot Mexican beach town. My family and friends understood it less.  But between the remoteness and the bad connections, I was learning to rely on myself.  Maybe that was the whole point.

 

Copyright 2012 © Fanny Barry