Me And Nadir
I keep getting emails from Nadir. So far I haven’t hit REPLY yet. Now Nadir has taken to calling me and leaving long, soothing voicemail messages. He’s done this three times before and each time he’s been right. But this time I just haven’t felt like playing his game. Nadir isn’t some slick foreign spy […]
I keep getting emails from Nadir. So far I haven’t hit REPLY yet. Now Nadir has taken to calling me and leaving long, soothing voicemail messages. He’s done this three times before and each time he’s been right. But this time I just haven’t felt like playing his game.
Nadir isn’t some slick foreign spy or a wealthy aristocrat you’d find at the Baccarat tables. Nadir is the time period after chemotherapy where all my counts are at their lowest. The chemicals slowly bring my body down to a point where I am sluggish, sick-like, feel as though the flu would be a better option and generally would just really rather stare at the ceiling.
But Nadir is important. Because now my brother’s stem cells can have the run of the place. Come on in, my body says, bring that ham sandwich with you and by all means make yourself at home. After all, there’s nothing in my system stopping him.
After the three previous Nadirs I popped out on the other side feeling oh so much better. One thing my pesky former doctor told me on the day he diagnosed me, “You’ll probably feel better after all this is over.” I couldn’t really believe that but each time I’ve recovered from the chemo my blood counts indicate I’m much better than a baseline test I had last year before getting laid off.
And that’s where I’m sitting now. Only this time there’s no more Nadirs afterward. There’s no more chemo. There’s never been a time in my life where I’ve looked forward to being sick. But too, there’s never been a time when I’ve been sick on purpose and have known things on the other side will be brilliant.
So I’m about to pick up the phone and talk to my slick buddy on the other end. I imagine he’s stroking his goatee, sipping some fabulous drink and smiling with a wicked yet playful gleam. If I don’t write anything for a while, just know I’m where I should be and the last four doctors and nurses to visit, left my room laughing.
Deal the cards Nadir. And hand me one of those fabulous drinks.
