Which leads me to believe that, for some reason, she cannot call me.
Perhaps she has been incapacitated by the rigors of her treatment. She had complained about it, and the feeling of helplessness.
Perhaps she has encountered a(nother?) set-back.
I have no way of knowing, which drives me bat-shit crazy! But I think she would have called if she could. Which leaves me cold with dread.
I have looked on the local police blotter and checked the local paper for obits and not found any information. I called the local cancer clinic and the hospitals. The cancer center couldn't answer any questions, they said; the hospital does not have a recent record of admitting her.
Why does it feel like someone's sitting on my chest, beating me over the head with a fucking chair?
Next, I shall call her home, inquiring as an old colleague who has heard of her illness through a mutual friend. As an academic, she has concerned colleagues all over the world. It's plausible that one should call. I'll call around 9 a.m.
Why am I afraid to call? Why does my hand hesitate by the phone? What am I afraid I shall/might/could hear?
Okay. I'm gonna have a script, in case someone other than Lila answers the phone:
"Hello. My name is Mark Schreier. Professor xxxx and I are old friends and former colleagues. I heard through a mutual friend that Lila was taken seriously ill, and I was hoping to discover her condition, perhaps to talk with her, and certainly to offer her my support, and best wishes. Can you tell me anything???"I got the answering machine. Left my message. Nothing else I can do, I guess...But I am worried fucking sick.
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