My Friend

I haven’t written about my friend, Fossil Guy, and the state of his health. When I think about it my mind skitters away to other things that are not as frightening as the specter of cancer. It is hard to grasp that I am in danger of losing him. I don’t want to entertain the idea at all. When the last doctor suggested that Asbestos can cause “other” ailments that affect the lungs, I grasped that notion like a life preserver. I am now floating in the cold waters of limbo. This Tuesday’s biopsy will tell the tale.

In the meantime I flit in and out of awareness that if the news is bad there will be an “expiration date” stamped on FG’s forehead, as he so drolly put it. If the news is bad I will have to look squarely at the fact of a finite time left in this friendship that has been part of the foundation of my life for almost four decades. Bookworm and No Apologies have written eloquently about their feelings. For some reason I can’t. The scare is too big, my feelings are too deep for me to put into words. I keep thinking, “it’s too early, it’s too soon”. The fact is, I’ve expected FG to live to be very, very old. I’ve expected him to be 10 years out there in front of me, forging the way for at least 20 more years. I may still get this wish but I never thought it would be in danger so soon.