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JANUS TAKES A DEEP BREATH - OR TRIES TO!
My name is Ilene. It would be funnier if my name was Janice.
But that's OK because I don't feel like being funny or clever right now. I'm going to begin with a frown on my face. I have
LAM. I'm not going to spell out the real name of that pain-in-the-ass disease. You either know it already or wouldn't understand
it if you don't. Suffice it to say that it means there's something terribly wrong with my lungs. OK, it's no great tragedy
like cancer or emphysema that keeps me bedridden or walking around with one of those oxygen gizmos - yet. But it ain't no
walk in the park either! It's that simple act of walking that first alerted me - or rather my doctor to the disease, in 1996.
The weather was clear, the light was green, my shoes were in tip-top condition and I hadn't had a drink in 6 months.
Then how could I explain stepping off the curb, walking two paces into Lexington Ave and collapsing like a house of cards?
As I stared straight up at the underbelly of a taxicab, I pondered: "Hmmm...is there a problem?" After three seconds of careful
pondering (I majored in Careful Pondering at Hunter College)I arrived at a conclusion. Yes. There is. "Hello, Doc?"
Pee
into this. Bleed into that. X-Ray these. Measure here. Bend over there. Oh, just one more thing, blow into this. A little
harder. Listen, girl, what part of "blow" don't you understand? Diagnosis: LAM. As in "Mary had a little"?.
No. As in you've got a big. Problem, that is. Well, that's the way it happened for me. Since that time it's been several trips
to Washington where researchers look me up, down, over and under for days at a time. It's free, doesn't hurt too much and
the grub is OK. I don't know if these guys know any more about LAM after playing with my body than before, but that's their
problem. Mine is trying to adjust to this thing while holding a job, maintaining a co-op and keeping a sense of humor. Yeah..holding,
maintaining and keeping. And one more thing - breathing. Well, I guess that's enough for the frowning Janus. It's getting
a little gloomy in here. How 'bout a few laughs? Take a deep breath, you lucky devils who can!
* * * * * * * *
Believe
it or not, there is some humor to be found in all this mishigas. Mishigas? If you don't know what that means, I can explain
it this way: Taking something very bad and labeling it "humorously crazy" in an attempt to lessen its severity. LAM is mishigas.
My life is mishigas. I've always been an honest person. Well, almost always. I tried lying once a long time ago and quickly
realized that I'm no good at it. I have many talents and skills. Mendacity is not on that list. But that's OK - never needed
it. Before. LAM changed all that. Just like Ol' Janus, I have become two-faced. I was never much for holding down a job for
any length of time. And just a partial list of those occupations would include cop, go-go dancer, wedding planner, singing
waitress, paralegal and everyone's personal favorite...lady who rides around on an elephant's head in the circus. These jobs
have shown me to be a living, breathing (with difficulty) example of, and credit to Hunter College. I got them all honestly
and did them well. Fast forward to 1996 and the aforementioned "trip" down to Lexington Ave.
Applying for a job now
is going to call for slight deviations from the absolute truth:
DO
YOU HAVE ANY PHYSICAL OR MENTAL CONDITION WHICH MAY AFFECT YOUR WORK HERE AT WORLDWIDE CORP?
Let's
see...I wonder if they consider "not breathing" a physical or mental condition. Ah, what the hell, I'll JUST SAY NO.
HAVE
YOU EVER BEEN DIAGNOSED WITH A WEIRD DISEASE THAT NOBODY HAS EVER HEARD OF?
Well, somebody must have
heard of LAM. I'll JUST SAY NO.
DID YOU EVER FAIL TO BLOW UP A BALLOON WHEN INSTRUCTED TO BY A PHYSICIAN,
OR AT A BIRTHDAY PARTY?
This is the question on every job application that everyone dreads. Gonna have
to lie and JUST SAY NO! (Boy...that Nancy Reagan sure knew what she was talking about!) Well, lying got me the job of glorified
office girl Friday gopher coffee-maker secretary phone-answerer copy-maker receptionist at Worldwide. I didn't feel good about
it, but one has to eat and pay rent, even if one's lungs ain't what they used to be. I've since gone on to better things,
all the time keeping employers in the dark about "you-know-what". I've had a few setbacks over the years. Like the time I
fainted while walking from the Xerox machine to the water cooler. After being canned as an insurance risk by that company,
I learned to do Yoga Breath and I have not swooned on the job since. LAM and I (we're a team now) have moved on to working
in a synagogue for six months, teaching improvisational theater for another nine and producing an Off-Broadway show. I've
made about a dozen trips to "LAM Central Station" (as I like to call it) down in D.C. The boys there tell me that I have,
give or take a week or two, eleven semi-good years left of enjoying planet Earth and all it has to offer. I intend to do just
that. Breathlessly!
Thanks for letting me ramble on.
Leenygirl.
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