So I have always suffered migraines. But I had a toothache. I made a dental appointment. I went to work in the morning at kind of the wrong time. There was some lady in my classroom with my students. It was odd. I wasn’t feeling well. I called my family. They took me to the hospital. I waited for anMRI and other tests. They said I had to have brain surgery. I waited all day for surgery. I had a late night brain surgery. They took one giant tumor out. But one had to stay inside. I am doing radiation and chemo to kill the tumor. I don’t want to die. I’m only 55. I’m positive that they can kill it. The radiation is a burning white light. My head is bolted in a mask on a table. Each treatment is ten minutes. I’m taking a ton of meds. I exercise everyday and do my regular stuff. I have no memory loss. I feel good. Love, Tracy
Dream. With Oprah. Talking about the zombie apocalypse. Eating cookies that Susan Sarandon brought in-a layered drop cookie. Gail eating alone. Going to Germany. Bombings. The best SUV to get through the apocalypse. Yellow cheese on the middle of a bed. A hunk. Benicio Del Toro. A very high bed. Laundry room near. Washing bedding. Gail eating after Oprah. Oprah makes joke about driving into a ditch. You drive the car you desire into the medium ditch you deserve. It was something like that. No one caught it on the video phone. Anxiety about Gail eating without Oprah.
Well I spent the summer trying to get rid of hundreds of books. And then I bought more books. I no longer understand anything. I love books. I read constantly. It’s all I care about—mostly. At the same time—so many books are garbage. Have no idea why we are here. There is only nothing—no point to anything. Creating something to gain immortality—seems okay. A book. More garbage. Nothing in life inspires me to keep on keeping on—