Too Much Going On At Once

Last night I watched an Italian movie on Netflix called ‘Bread and Tulips’ (2000). In the story, a housewife is forgotten in a highway café (Autogrill) during a bus trip, and she decides to start a new life on her own in Venice. The movie was fine, but oh, how I loved seeing the streets of Venice, hearing the sounds of Italy and honestly, I could smell the food they ate. This little film took me away to a far away land.

Of course, it reminded me of my year abroad, which is now approaching 12 years ago. How can that even be possible? What an amazing year of discovering about the world, cultures, and the innermost parts of myself. It was a year of freedom and floating. I had earned all my money waiting tables the previous year, so the only real responsibilities I had were to go to school and make sure I did not overspend my budget. Otherwise, the year was about discovery and breathing in life.

I was studying Art History and in Florence, Italy. I still needed to graduate and those classes counted toward my GPA, so yes, school was a priority. We had Italian language classes, which I barely survived, and then I carried a full additional 15 units of art history and culture related classes. Truthfully, my Italian professors were much harder than the teachers I had at Sac State so school actually took quit a bit of dedication. Listening to lectures through the profssors thick accents was an additional challenge which I had to tackle. The courses were amazing as everything we studied we got to go see. Field trips were included with the tuition… it was incredible.

But something happens when you are living in a coffered ceiling 11^th century apartment, in the heart of one of the most beautiful cities on the planet, which is deemed the “Birthplace of the Renaissance” and is home to some of the finest art museums in the world. I know it sounds snotty, but by month 6 of 10 I began to take it for granted. I was smacked with the reality of my own spoiledness while looking up at the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. I remember craning my neck at Michelangelo’s masterpiece and thinking “uh… it’s okay I suppose.” Somehow after you see 100 original pieces of Michelangelo’s work you feel like you have seen then all. (I know my friends who traveled with me are nodding their head in agreement – the rest of you think I’m a brat.)

 Slave, St. Matthew
Galleria dell'Accademia, Florence
1503

In Florence, at the Accademia Gallery you will find Michelangelo’s 17-foot marble statue of a naked David holding a slingshot. I’m sure your familiar with the image, which I will resist posting to avoid being blamed for causing anyone’s eyes from being corrupted. David, additionally lifted about 10 feet into the air upon a marble pedestal, towers over all others works of art in the gallery and dwarfs tourist to the size of ants. What I found most interesting about the Accademia Gallery was that when you enter the hall leading to David, you walk past what have been argued as Michelangelo’s most fascinating of works, the four famous "unfinished" Slaves, or Prisoners. The Slaves are basically huge blocks of marble that Michelangelo started carving but never finished. The characters are trapped for eternity in the cold marble… alive but frozen in time. These pieces show the skillful technique of sculpture and how Michelangelo was able to bring a cold block of rock to life. Art historians’ debate whether he intended the statues to look the way they do now (unfinished) or if in fact he just did not get the chance to complete them. They are stunning. You can contrast the jagged texture of the raw marble against the sculpted and polished finished parts of the work – just beautiful.

So, what’s the point? My point is, that the towering David steals the show, and unless you know what to look for you will walk right past the Slaves and miss the opportunity of a lifetime to see sculpture in its rawest form created by the hands of one of the greatest artist of all time.

Relating this to cancer…

This past weekend I had to go to the hospital emergency again. That is twice in a month. I had a temperature of 103 and anytime I have a temp of 101 (or more)  I have to go immediately to the ER. They broke my fever and discovered that I have pneumonia. This week is being spent in bed trying to fight this beast, otherwise they will switch me to an I-V drip of antibiotics that we will have to administer at home. That would mean having an I-V in my arm for 10 days… no thank you. So here I sit getting fatter and lazier by the day.

Additionally, I had not shared this yet, but earlier this month, as an effect of the first chemotherapy mix I was taking I have started medical induced menopause. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t be sharing this part of my life, but many people have found it interesting… so there you go, another side effect. Due to the particular chemo I was on there was an 80% chance this would happen, and I am lucky to have won yet another lame jackpot. Occasionally, chemotherapy-induced menopause is only temporary… so I guess I just get to wait and see what happens. Anyways, hot flashes have become a part of my day/night and I’m gonna take this chance to blame any irritability or moodiness on this “life change.”

Currently I wish I could just yell out to God, “Hey, knock it off! Could we focus on one thing at a time? Let me enjoy all the glory of cancer now, maybe next winter I could experience a spat with pneumonia and why don’t we visit the exciting world of menopause in 10 to 15 years.”

Just like that year in Italy there are just too many “Michelangelo” sized trials going on at one time. When there is too much going on at once, you don’t even know what you are looking at and you miss the chance to appreciate things for what they are… let it be classic works of art or a less than thrilling sickness.

Here's to wishing I could space all this excitement out. (Insert sound of crystal wine glasses clinking here.) A girl can wish right?