Hi. I’m Kate. Turn ons include IV drips, PETscans, and organic fig newtons. Turn offs include whining, hospital gowns, and artificial sugar.
Let’s see how much life I can squeeze in between work, chemo, sleep, and scans.
Against the Machine
My laptop couldn’t boot up fast enough and my fingers can’t keep up with the flow of my thoughts. This is pouring out of me and I’m going to fight my normal desire to censor or wordsmith it. I don’t know how this is going to come out, so I’ll apologize in advance if it’s rough or unorganized.
I felt something tonight that I have never felt before. Rage. I don’t know how it happened, it crept up on me so fast, without warning. Today ended like almost any other Friday. I was in a good mood as I left the office. I got into the GTO and put on some music. Maybe it was the music, a mix of AC/DC, Eminem, and Guns and Roses. Driving along 270, I was fine; trying to figure out dinner, weekend plans, etc. The feeling started to grow inside me and the GTO started going faster in direct proportion to it. I moved over to the HOV lane, without the usual accompanying guilt. I felt my body grow hotter, despite the fact that the AC was on full blast.
Please understand that this feeling wasn’t directed at anyone or anything in particular. There wasn’t anything that happened today or this week that prompted it.
Rage is reserved for teenagers and rock stars. People who ride horses do not feel rage. People who garden and subscribe to Southern Living just don’t feel rage, but there I was consumed by this overwhelming emotion.
I made it to Boyds in record time, but didn’t turn into my house. I knew I had to drive this out of me, literally and figuratively. I’ve always enjoyed pushing myself, testing the limits, but this was beyond anything I’ve done before and I didn‘t care about the consequences. Consumed, I drove around the country roads of Poolesville pushing the car and myself. On Route 28, I reached 90mph in fourth gear and kept accelerating. I struggled against steering wheel as I flew around the curves on Peachtree Road at 60mph.
I didn’t think, I just drove. I didn’t recognize myself during this time and didn’t try to understand what was compelling the rage.
I eventually came to my senses on Bucklodge Road when I passed a white cross on the side of the road. We all know why these crosses are sprinkled along the road. This particular cross is relatively new - in fact, the tire tracks are still look fresh. Guilt washed over me and I felt foolish for being so irresponsible. I pulled over, changed the CD, and drove under the speed limit the entire way home.
I’m struggling with how to end this story, I don’t have a cute pun or upbeat sentiment this time.
Simply put, I am just so thankful to be alive.
Wow! At least you didn’t have Marilyn Manson on the mix!! That would have sent you over the edge of a cliff! I’ve noticed that music follows my mood and my mood follows the music. It kind of works both ways. I go from classical to Manson and everything in between, but then I’m not normal. I’m sure rage is a good thing once in a while, given your situation. Just try to express it when you are not in the car from now on (a wall with a hole in it about the size of a fist can be repaired fairly easily).
Hi Kate-
I can see where you’d like to drive fast because of your condition. However, if you must, do it on bigger roads like I-270 or MD355. Many cyclists including myself ride the exact same roads you mentioned between Germantown and Poolesville. I’ve even almost been hit by someone probably driving too fast around the bend at Shaefer Farm Road just inside South Germantown Park. So, I don’t want to sound like I’m lecturing you but, please be more careful when driving. I wish you the best.
Add A Comment