Who Will Kill the Spiders?
Going out in a blaze of glory
“When you have a terminal illness, ya may as well go out in a blaze of glory,” advises Michael W. Updike, “so try to have of a little fun with it.” Updike brings levity to his own experience with the tale of the arachnids who visited him at night – and yes, he tried to kill the spiders.
I’ve tried to keep my friends up to date on my little five-year joy ride with the Big C at the wheel. Mostly because a few people have asked me to write about the medical journey, but to a large degree, there are some humorous episodes scattered among the broken-off needles, emergency trachs, helicopter rides, the collapsed lungs, the blindness (got one eye back – YAY!!) and the cacophony of assorted drugs and medical relief products they will give a person who was supposed to have been dead months or years ago.
But SPIDERS?? where the heck does that come from?
Well, the essay title “Who Will Kill the Spiders” comes from a song I wrote about a little girl I overheard (or created!) whose parents were divorcing and the most devastating way the 3-year-old child saw herself being affected by Daddy being gone was killing the spiders. Not how are we gonna eat, where will we live or some deeper thought about Daddy’s arms picking her up as he comes home from work each day.
Who Will Kill the Spiders?
And how could spiders relate in any way to a cancer story?
Well, the latest psychotropic drug they gave me had as an adverse side effect – Hallucinations.
I would wake up in the half-light of our nighttime bedroom and see a clustered ball of what appeared to be Wolf Spiders crawling on my hands!
The first time I saw them, as a natural reaction, I simultaneously grabbed the glob of spiders and with my best Nolan Ryan fast ball imitation, threw the spider blob against the bedroom wall.
The weirdest part of the whole thing was that I actually threw the delusional spiders against the wall and they exploded into 1,000 additional spiders! Yeah, I know, Mike has finally lost it!
I realized that there were no actual living or dead arachnids on my hands! So, after pushing my heart back into its assigned place, I decided, if they showed up again, I would play along and observe what the spiders did. It was crazy! More and more kept coming – absolutely NUTS!
The only other completely whacked out vision I saw was a nurse, a seemingly Mid-Eastern lady in a flowing and glowing kaftan and headscarf with RN’s scrubs, standing over a sleeping Jennifer as I lay beside her awaiting the spiders, which had an Estimated Time of Arrival of whenever I decided to close my eyes each night.
I actually asked our kaftan-wearing RN, “Can we help you!?” Wordless, she vanished into the air never to be seen again.
After three or four nights of spiders and kaftans, I emailed my oncologist who gently scolded me to not partake of these pills anymore.
I told her I wouldn’t have objected so fervently back during my four nights a week music-playing days and Blue Cross/Blue Shield Health insurance didn’t absorb the cost of hallucinogens back during those wild and woolly days.
So, the morals of the story, if there accidentally had been a point or a moral, would be (1) The fun and frivolity of an on-the-road band shows up as scars and mental illusions 25 years later (but try to enjoy those shared moments with spiders and Treacherous RNs); (2) when you have a terminal illness, ya may as well go out in a blaze of glory, so try to have of a little fun with it – you’re more likely to be remembered if you find humor in it than if you are a Mikey-Downer; and (3) if you get a dread-disease, the doctors will give you the Greatest Hits in her little black bag of pills and goodies because good ol’ Doc knows you won’t be here to testify against her in the malpractice suit , so don’t suffer through pain – Enjoy the Ride!
BTW – Mystery Solved – The Oncologist Killed the Spiders!
Michael W. Updike is a singer, songwriter and author. He lives in a 1930s Virginia plantation-country farmhouse, which he renovated. Michael also collects and restores antique cars. He enjoys spending time with the love of his life, Jennifer, and their family.
More from Michael W. Updike:
Left the Story There: Casting a line for closure on a fishing trip
The Heart Remembers: Dusty childhood memories
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