Wanna See Something Really Scary?

It's Halloween, or as they say at my son's school, it's "Scarecrow Day". We were busily assembling Jacob's scarecrow costume last night, and I couldn't help but think of the scarecrow in the Wizard of Oz ("If I only had a brain!").

When my husband and I first started dating back in high school, we saw the Twilight Zone movie together, and one of the memorable lines from that movie was, "Wanna see something REALLY scary?" Earlier this month, as I was putting up the Halloween decorations, I caught a glimpse of the portfolio case containing all of my MRI films. For a brief moment I thought, "Hey - wanna see something REALLY scary?" And I wondered how creepy it would be to decorate the house with MRI pictures of my brain! I decided it was too creepy, so in the portfolio case they stay...under the couch...but the handle peeks out ever so slightly, so I know they are there...(shudder...)

I also can't help but remember the scene in Steel Magnolias, where (SPOILER ALERT) Julia Roberts goes into renal failure and collapses into a coma on Halloween, with her kid screaming nearby. My new chemotherapy puts me at risk for kidney problems, and a coma isn't a far stretch for a lot of reasons, so it's just an icky, awful association to have sitting there in what's left of my mind. It's sick and twisted and scary, but some people go out of their way for that kind of thing this time of year.

Finally, I can't help but remember my craniotomy every time I see a carved pumpkin!

This afternoon, after school, "Scarecrow Day" becomes "Halloween", and Jacob transforms from his scarecrow persona into a Power Ranger. We're taking on a Disney theme, as a nod to our vacation earlier this year. Our daughter will become Minnie Mouse, and my husband and I will be Donald and Daisy Duck--that is, unless the beanbag chair-sized duck butts on the costumes don't let us fit into our car, and we have to turn to our backup costumes of Mr. and Mrs Incredible (from the movie, The Incredibles). We have a "trunk or treat" activity at our church parking lot (where everyone sets up their cars in the parking lot as trick-or-treat stations and a zillion kids turn out in their costumes - it's super fun), and then we get to come home and play games and greet other trick-or-treaters that come to our door.

It will be fun, although as with any annual event (birthdays, holidays, etc.) there is a wistful thought that maybe this will be our last Halloween together. Maybe, or maybe not. And really, cancer diagnosis aside, this is the way it is for everyone. We never know if it's our last Halloween, or even if it's our last Tuesday. My mom is the picture of health, but I talked to her today as she drove down the street using her cell phone. We both acknowledged that we couldn't predict who was more likely to survive the day. Every day is a gift. And today - like any day on the calendar - is a day for having fun, despite the scary things that might surround us.