8.11.09

Nueva sección: Colaboraciones forzadas.

En agosto se acercaron a Calcuta mucha buena gente aprovechando las vaquis ibéricas. Pensé en pedir a la peñita un relato=impresion para publicar aquí, pero luego pensé que les ponía en un compromiso que no sé si yo mismo cumpliría... Total que 2 meses indispués (veís que lo main no es la velosité del rayo) he pensau que las colaborations las puedo coger de gente que sí ha publicado sus impreshions en la blogosfera, se supone que les hago espejo.

En mai blox paralelo "enlacesmilengue" hay un montón de linx a páginas relasionadas. Pero las que merecen la pena las sacaré aquí para presentarlas en condiciones. La gente curiosa cotillea pero otras prefieren que se lo expliquen tó. No se preocupen, primas.

Quiero empezar con Linda Ray.
Es la guapa de la peli Agua (water, evidentemente), de la trilogía tierra-fuego-agua, donde la buena es fuego por mucho y el epílogo, heaven on earth (con Pretty Zinta asumiendo malos tratos, perdón la ancestral, pacifista, tradicional y espiritual cultura india). El caso es que Linda ha contraído MM (un tipo de leucemia) y ha decidido contarlo en un blox, the yellow diaries, con una lucidez que echo de menos en la gente con la que me siento implicada que sufre una enfermedad parecida. La tipa tiene entradas con 630 comentarios (sólo conozco un blog con más, generación Y). Dice que no supo escuchar su cuerpo cuando le pedía tregua y que se ha tomado la grave enfermedad como una forma espiritual de reflexión y de valorar lo que es tener una vida intelectualmente conciente.

La tipa es canadiense-bengalí, su inglés es nivel alto. A veces se niega a ponerse mascarilla. O se toma una copisha de vino, en teoría prohibido pero en el fondo no pasa nada y le ayuda a sentirse mehó,

En inglés "blue" azul es el color de la tristeza. Ella habla del amarillo porque su sangre, al faltarle glóbulos rojos tira a ese color. Es un blog a tope de ganas de vivir y de criterio

Extractos:

*My Dad, herded me, drove me, waited with me, fetched me soup. How do I describe this symmetry of love and service between us during this time? He’s the source of my everything.

‘Hello there, Welcome to Chemo Daycare’

Practically sounds like Neruda.

Cause just now, I don’t have enough energy for the present. Except to do what’s essential. Like, tell them you love them. Burn off excess interactions. Eat what you want, when you want. Use your best conditioner.

Se hace la lonchas:

*Book that trip to Argentina. No more deferrals.

Like Gilda Radner said:

‘If it wasn’t for the downside, having cancer would be the best thing and everyone would want it.

If it weren’t for the downside.

Chemo is cumulative. It has a pleasing sound to it. Like, ‘suicide is painless’

I joke of course.

So the toxicity accumulates in your system. I’m limp all the time, like a heavy camel coat in the summer. Being a covert type A I don’t think I have ever spent longer than three days in bed before this. Not that I haven’t been ill with fevers and flus. Most often I had a ritual of getting sick near the end of a heavy filming schedule. Dr Coetzee in Capetown, or Dr. Sharma in Delhi or Dr. Verboeten in Rotterdam would show up on set, I’d get a shot, or some pills and doze between takes. Health never stopped me from working.

Se siente valiente:


We’re committed to the yellow dance, the MM and me.

The Tarantella.

Thanks to the Cancer I have an entire tea party of neuroses. We sat around drinking Mariage freres and playing with pipe cleaners all last week.

‘You’re gonna lose your hair during the stem cell transplant then, huh? Good thing you don’t have a face expressing the syndrome resembling hyperactive adrenal cortex with increase in adiposity otherwise known as moonface…’

Aquí menta una de mis pelis favos (con diferencia)

There’s a line in ‘In the Mood for Love’: ‘at least she was always the heroine of her story’. Yup, that was me.

Declaración de principios:

I am overjoyed we have this in the world: art, music, FOOD, transcendence of words, time, logic…

Lleva juegos de mesa a la sala de espera para hacerla más llevadera a las compis.

Supersticiones (pequeño largo trecho en inglis):

A cameraman was leaving my home the other day after we filmed a piece on Multiple Myeloma. He called out:

‘Good luck’.

Then stopped himself on the stairs. ‘Why do we say that? There’s a theory that if you say that to someone with a disease, it implies that they have a struggle ahead of them. But what else can you say?’

‘OPA? And then break a plate. Or smash a cartiledge?’

‘How about, congratulations.’

So I’m making friends with MM. I intend to be the master. Now I’m accumulating the weapons for my mutiny. I’m learning about my IGG/A/M immunology test which measures the ‘M’ protein in my blood. As it drops I get closer to crossing over to ‘Full Remission’ membership. I’ve got a lot of reading on Stem Cell Transplants. Today a friend introduced me to Kathy Giusti, who was diagnosed at 37 like me and has gone on to establish the Multiple Myeloma Research Foundation, intensely focused on finding a cure. (http://www.multiplemyeloma.org) All inspiring stuff.

Living inside and out at the same time. Using the Yellow to guide me.

It’s still never occured to me I won’t get better.

And the reason I write, is I’m not good with people. Or crowds. Which, of course, is why I became an actress.

Which is my segue to Red Carpet reporting, Yellow Diaries style.

Here’s where it all comes together.

The Morning of the premiere for ‘Cooking with Stella’ I wake to find that someone has laid out my ’stay puff marshmallow girl!’ suit. That’s an upgrade from my wetsuit. I’m having a reaction to my meds. So triple bloated this morning I feel my day would be better served in a daycare where children could land safely from a height on some part of my body. But Don MacKellar, my ‘Stella’ co-star and I were invited by Piers Handling CEO and Cameron Bailey co-Director of TIFF to open the Toronto Stock Exchange . I am thrilled. Since I’m unemployed, I’ve started small scale trading and I’m hoping for some major swag. I’m thinking Gold ETRs…
oops what happens when you miss? lucky I have backup

oops what happens when you miss? lucky I have backup

Little snafu. None of the vintage dresses that Rashmi has sourced for me fit. I pull on a NADA black sheath and a big smile. And the morning goes off brilliantly. (The TSX is ‘opened’ by touching a display screen- no bell, no confetti. And we got to make a lot of noise. Isn’t that a hoot?) And here’s the thing. Before in any kind of public event, I was self-conscious. I’m shy by nature. When you pose, you don’t have to reveal anything deeper than the colour of your clutch. And you are being watched by eyes that don’t look for anything deeper than a pretty picture.

My awkward nature, the things left unsaid.

This day was different. I smiled like I meant it. Because I did. I was grateful. And I wanted it to show. That has never happened before for me.

Of course before MM, I wouldn’t dare show up with a moonface and triple layer wetsuit. But at least now I can smile until I can’t see. Makes you less self-conscious.

And that’s what I remember most about the Red Carpet. I was relaxed. I was happy. And I could show it. It’s a breakthrough for me personally. This experiment with honesty.

My marrow tells me to attend to my father. He’s worried about me, I know. He’s the caretaker of the bitse right now.

But it’s never occured to me that I won’t get better.

And I started by asking you to be suspicous of my motives in writing this.

Well, I’m helping myself.

¿Más?

Desconfianza.
La gente se aprovecha.


It was Bobcat that sent me for the tests that led to my Membership into the Cancer Club. It’s a good thing he has strong teeth and didn’t back off. And shortly after that, he got my teeth fixed.

See, dental health is very important for Members of the Myeloma Club. That’s what they tell you when you first get membership. That’s because there’s a risk of osteonecrosis or ‘abnormal death of the jaw bone’. So you are advised to complete all your dental work before beginning treatment.

I laughed. Of course.

‘I’m not sure what normal death of the jaw bone is, but fortunately, I’m not married to the idea of talking for my whole life. Besides. I think I’ve talked enough.

Esta chica afortunada no sabe lo que es sufrir su enfermedad tirada en una acera como un perro, como tanta gente en en Bombay. Pero, relax, take it easy.

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