I’m a believer in coincidences. Usually these coincidences are for the good – such as finding out, when I met J, that his middle name is my late grandfather’s first name (a slightly unusual one, at that).
Having survived now long enough to reflect on it, I start to find coincidences that are not so positive. In April, for instance. Three years ago in April is where my troubles began, when my dermatologist biopsied a spot on my back for the second time and found it had turned bad, real bad. Last year in April I went from being cleared of all charges to having trouble speaking and finding out I had a brain full of tumors. The cruelest month. (And that was before taxes.)
So it is freaking me out that last year at this time, in the days leading up to April, I had a bad cold and headache. And today, I’m lying in bed listening to the rain, and mouth-breathing due to a new cold, and my head aches, and I can’t quite remember if it ached this same way last year, or different.
Lightning doesn’t strike twice in the same spot (well, sort of). Step on a crack, break your mother’s back (please, children, step on a hole instead). Superstition ain’t the way. I’m going to ward off this cancer-in-April conspiracy with more sleep, chicken alphabet soup, and this song (which I’m sure I’ve linked here many times) on endless repeat. Thinking of you, Lou.
What good was cancer in April? / Why no good… no good at all.