"Quelque chose de pas très propre" . . .

"Quelque chose de pas très propre" -translation: "something that's not so clean"- said A. with a trembling, worried voice over the phone. It took me a few seconds to realize what on earth she was talking about. And I still had to ask her, I wanted to hear it.  "You know what I'm talking about", she uttered in a shy, now reserved voice. 

So that's what they're calling it now? She caught me off guard, I have to admit. I had heard all kinds of nicknames, from the shiest "haideke" (the other one) to the boldest "el marad" (the disease), but never had I heard about cancer being called "something not so clean". It came as a shock; I have known A. all my life. In fact I grew up under her watchful eyes, ate her wonderful cooking, and she tucked me in countless times, I watched her get sicker and sicker over the last 15 years of my life. Fighting asthma, diabetes, repeated hernias, age that's getting older and older, A. looks weary, as she barely stands, 70 years old, and a mere few steps away from giving up on living in a body so spent. We talked many times of her diseases, and I reassured her as much as I could, listened to her complaints and resignation to a disease-laden life, but I had never heard her talk about that 'unclean bastard' before in my life. An awakening? Fine, call it that. It hit me like a truck, that's all I know. 

Lately A. has been calling me regularly to report what her doctors have been  telling her. She has more faith in her grandson and future doctor, I guess. All the tests she'd been getting done, the results and what they meant. Her recent worry has been a chronic anemia, her hematocrit having dropped to the low 20's. She and her doctors have not been able to treat it effectively despite supplements and diet considerations. This means that there has to be a loss of blood somewhere. Gastro intestinal tract bleeding is a prime suspect in these cases, and the doctors ordered an endoscopy.

-A: "I am scared, R., really scared of the results"

-R. "What results ya A.? what are you talking about? You haven't done anything yet!" 

-A: "That there may be something not so clean in there my boy"

-[...]

-A: "You know what I'm talking about"

A. is on more medications than I could count on 2 hands and 2 feet, I don't even know what conditions they're supposed to treat and control. The first time she talked to me about her intractable anemia, I thought "bleeding ulcer"; all these meds can't be doing her stomache or intestines any good. I have to say I never even thought about cancer. Denial? I don't think so. But may be... No, surely not...