March 11

March 11.  It’s been one year since the last day I can truly remember that everything was okay.  And the really fucked up part is that on March 11, 2012, I was so damn hungover that I spent much of that day in the bathroom throwing up.  I missed out on experiencing that day in full form and I have so much regret.

March 11 is my grandpa’s birthday.  Last year, Jay and I flew up to NY because it was a big long weekend of family birthday celebrations; March is a BIG birthday month for my family.  I went out to celebrate my sister’s birthday in NYC and drank too much.  We had given up beer for Lent, so I drank liquor.  It goes down so much quicker than beer does.

March 11 was, minus the hangover, a happy day.  We went to an Italian restaurant in Syosset, NY to celebrate Grandpa’s 81st birthday.  We joked about the “curse” of that restaurant – the first time we all went, Jeremiah #2 got sick from overeating.  The second time, Christie had a bit too much wine & got sick in the most fantastic way possible.   The third time was me.  I swear, I went to the bathroom so many times that afternoon that the staff must have thought I had a Lohan problem.  I hate myself so much for being so sick that I couldn’t even stand the smell of the food.

March 11 was also the day that Jen Ozawa announced that she had breast cancer.  I remember the exact moment that I saw her Tweet the link to her blog about it.  My heart sank; it was just the start of the Year of Cancer.

March 17 is when it all changed with a late-night E.R. visit.  I Googled the symptoms after compulsively cleaning the entirely apartment at midnight.  I just knew it was cancer.  I cried a lot.  When my mom told me a week later, I was prepared.  I was surprised to learn that everyone else was surprised.  I think they had to have known deep down.  But I still remember exactly where I was when my mom told me it was cancer.  I remember exactly where I was when I said to her, “While all of you were in the E.R. last week, I had searched the symptoms.  I knew.  I know.”

March 11, 2012.  I want to go back to there so badly.  I wish I could change how much I drank the night before.  I wish it could go back to the way it was before March 17.  But it can’t.  Time marches onwards.

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