THE BIONIC MAN

A happy Bird with his daughter, Jo

Not so long ago I blogged about the ‘You can’t swear! You’ve got hair!’ episode, which is now one of our inside family jokes. I think every family has them. They occur spontaneously and, at later opportune moments, will be repeated with a sly wink and knowing laugh. A couple of weeks ago, I unwillingly contributed to our family repertoire, and I’m quite sure that I’m going to be teased about this one for years to come.

Refusing the traditional treatment for my brother’s cancer meant finding another way to improve our situation. There is no question of just sitting around and letting the disease take its course. After hours of research, we decided that organic food and homeopathic measures could only help. A juicer was purchased, a Doctor of Naturopathic Medicine consulted, and this lady began reading labels and being very careful about cooking and serving only certified organic products. There is no problem finding fruits and vegetables, but meat (non-boosted) is not so easily accessible in the grocery stores in our small town. My daughter had mentioned buying a batch of grain fed, free range chickens some months ago, so I decided to ask her if I could purchase one or two from her until I could get to the specialized city markets.

I alternate between the English and French languages on a daily or even hourly basis – speaking it, reading it, writing it. Now and then I unconsciously throw a French word or expression into an English conversation, or vice versa. Sometimes I have to stop and think before using a certain word, because I am no longer sure to which language it belongs. The other day, while talking to my daughter, I forgot to pay attention. I was speaking French, where the correct term is biologique, but thinking the English organic. My tongue twisted, and I didn’t even realize what I had said until my daughter started to giggle and answered “Sure, Mom! I’ll sell you a couple of my bionic chickens!”

I guess I don’t have to tell you what happened when my smart-mouthed brother heard about my blunder. After his initial deep rendition of “Gentlemen, we can rebuild him. We have the technology…we can make him better than he was before…..” (for those who don’t recognize it, it was the introduction to the old Six-Million Dollar Man television series), he has shown no mercy. Each family member, every visiting friend, and even the nurses from the CLSC have been told not to worry about his health - that his sister is now feeding him bionic meals. I’m sure it’s not-so-subtle payback for my refusing to let him eat junk food, or the beet-carrot-apple mixture I force him to drink first thing in the morning! He never did like beets.

I admit I can go a bit overboard when I latch onto an idea. However, my brother’s daughter, who flew in to spend the weekend with us, much to his delight, and my own kids, and his lady friend…even the nurses, all agree. His condition, both physically and mentally, seems to have greatly improved within the past three weeks….the same length of time he has been eating only bionic…uh…I mean, organic.

In spite of his being a smart-ass, I’ll still endeavor to help him. Tomorrow …and each day after that… I will faithfully prepare a glass of organic beet-carrot-apple juice and serve it to him first thing in the morning, now even before his coffee, which he loves. I will dutifully ignore his grimace when I set it down on his table, and pretend that I do not know that he never did like beets. And as I turn my back to walk out of his room, yep! I’ll be SMILING!!

Sending those SMILES out to y’all, and hoping you’ll spread them around!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.