6.21.2013

skittles

Things were truly well for several weeks before fecal matter hit the fan. While we always suspected Mike would need radiation for the remaining tumor nodules in his brain, we had hoped major surgery would not be needed. In May we sat together reading an old Star magazine as we waited in a small office for the neurosurgeon. That's one doctor I hope none of you ever need. We were discussing the many complications that must arise when the conjoined twins featured in the mag courted. They happen to share one pair of sex organs, but separate heads and each control their own leg and arm. What happens if one head wants to marry someone, but they essentially share the same body with the other head? What if the other head didn't like the guy? And how does the single one go about finding herself a man if her body is somewhat married/ occupied? How would you have privacy from the other? There would be no tie to hang on the door, it would have to be noise cancelling headphones and a blindfold for the non-participating head. The mechanics of typical adulthood must be achieved, but how? Mike didn't believe this situation existed, let alone press about one being engaged. He googled their names and Gawker.com was several steps ahead of me in pondering the technical details of such a life. "What does it look like when one performs fellacio?" flashed across his phone as a result of the innocent search. We read it at the same time and an immediate surge of invasion of privacy coupled with visual hilarity consumed us. He practically threw his phone across the room in embarrassment while we tried to regain control of our composure.

Just then the doctor entered the room. Mike retrieved his phone from the floor and shifted his attention quickly to his doctor. It was immediately declared a craniotomy would be needed. The MRI results showed the tumors were growing and that he would also need radiation for whatever would be left afterwards. Mike's vision was tested and showed signs of deteriorating since the last surgery due to the location of one (or more) of the tumors. We would be looking at scheduling as quickly as the doctor could coordinate. That date became June 4th; only 2 weeks away from the moment we were bantering on about celebrity gossip.

We left deflated, long forgetting about those complications we imagined of the love life for conjoined twins. My husband was going to be getting his face cut open, peeled down, his skull sawed through and his brain resected. I can't speak for him, but it's probably safe to say we both felt shock waves of numbness speed through our veins like freezing liquid steel. We had a lot to digest, a bone saw would be used on Mike's head and that's a big pill to swallow. As for the conjoined twins research, well, make no mistake we will get back that another day.
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