Sunday, January 25, 2009

Brad Garrett Doesn't Care that I have Cancer

Saturday Chris and I decided we'd just go do something other than work or doctor's appointments or talking to people about cancer or thinking about cancer. That required getting out of town. We went into LA (a surprising choice, all things considered, but our car drives there automatically now) to the Los Angeles Art Show at the Convention Center. No, I know what you're thinking, and there was no velvet, no Elvis, and no mass-produced oil paintings of ships, children, flowers and sunsets. Yeah, I know, we were disappointed too!! This was a show that featured 125 galleries from around the world (and none with regular spots at the swap-meet). Anyway, it worked. We got to walk around for almost four hours just being normal people (really really normal actually, as the "art world" is as odd and eccentric as the Hollywood world). No one knew and no one cared about my breast cancer. Including me!! And just to hit that point home, in just about the last row we walked down there was Brad Garett perusing the art with a surprisingly normal looking woman. He didn't even so much as glance at my cancer breast! Brad Garrett doesn't care that I have cancer. God bless him! (and yeah, he really is super tall. Even I thought so. But, to find that photo for your viewing pleasure I Googled him. His bio says 6' 8 1/2". Now once you hit 6'8", really, what's the point of adding that 1/2"? Is he also 49 1/3 years old now?).

After that we went to Pizzaioli (yes, scene of the extremely delicious crime that was the fettuccine in Gorgonzola cream sauce). They knew just how to make me feel perfectly comfortable. It involved wine, calamari, wine, the aforementioned fettucine, wine, wine and as it turned out...a roomfull of bald people to start my adjustment! (Okay that's me with Mimi DeGrezia--daughter of the owners, Tom & Kris, but note all the folks in the background. Coincidence?? I think not.)

Support Group #2: The DeGrezia Family:
Thanks guys!

1 comment:

  1. Praying for you girl. Hang in there.There is light at the end of the tunnel and no, it is not a train. I know how your mind works just a bit--tty soon Helga W.


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