Kitty is unpacking a hoard of tinctures, tonics, powders, oils and herbs when Sarah bursts into the kitchen with her judgmental face on. But before we get to her speech, I have to say: Her shirt is so incredibly unflattering. It is brown and wide at the top, narrow at the bottom with sort of bat wings that connect the arms to the waistband. It really and truly makes her look very fat. Nice work, wardrobe. I hope Rachel Griffiths' publicist sues you. Sarah mocks Kitty's herbal concoctions as hippie hoohaw, but Kitty's reminder that she has cancer curtails Sarah's one-woman hollering contest. Kitty explains that she ran into a woman she knew who had lymphoma and decided to quit chemo and use the power of her mind to stop the spread of cancer. She is in complete remission now and didn't even lose her hair. Sarah is almost on board with the idea until Kitty starts relating her stressed out Type A perfectionist personality to getting cancer. Sarah, the good older sister, doesn't put up with anyone dissing her little sister, not even her little sister. Sarah won't listen to Kitty blame herself for getting cancer. But Kitty is adamant and even uses the family's poor dead dog as another example of a stressed out Type A personality who also got cancer. Sarah is unimpressed, but Kitty is dead set (pun intended) on using her mind to get rid of the cancer cells. She caused it, so she'll get rid of it. Sarah tries to argue with Cancer Girl that she can do both chemo and alternative therapies, but Kitty stops her short and shakes her head no. She's done. Sarah sighs and clumsily changes the subject to Kitty's dress shopping. Then she tries again to convince Kitty to reconsider, but Kitty won't.
Nora is so distracted by Kitty's decision that she is completely unaware of what is going on in her meeting. She just sits staring blankly until called upon, then she flees the room looking for air. She sits morosely on a bench outside when she is approached by a man who was in the meeting. He notes that she ran out of there pretty quickly and he was wondering if there was anything he could do to help. Nora asks him for a cigarette. Which is actually pretty funny. She hasn't smoked in 30 years, but would kill for a cancer stick now. I think the irony is lost on her. The man apologizes, but he doesn't have a cigarette. He introduces himself as a new volunteer at the center. Nora, being Nora, doesn't bother holding back. She announces that she hates the center and wishes she had never thought of it. She hates cancer, hates everything about it. The guy smiles, because he is an oncologist and gets what she is talking about. He compartmentalizes his feelings (bottle up and explode, doctor, bottle up and explode), Nora tells him that her daughter has cancer and then complains that she can't even go home and talk about something else. She really wishes she had wanted to save the whales instead. He suggests that she needs to get away. She shrugs, but he orders her onto the back of his motorcycle. She protests everyway that she can (except for the obvious I'm in the middle of a meeting excuse) and then gives up. She hops on the back of his hog and rides off into the sunset. Doctor's orders after all.
Nora's doctor parks his bike (nudge nudge wink wink) and they talk (if you know what I mean). The doctor thinks Kitty just needs to go through this phase of cancer denial and besides, who is to say what will work for someone? He claims he once had a woman go into complete remission when a shaman told her to imagine herself as a jaguar. Oh he read that story on a cereal box. But, seriously folks, a little voodoo on the side is fine. Oh is that what the kids are calling it these days? Nora smirks knowingly. The doctor thinks Kitty just wants to feel like she is in control. Nora uses that vague tidbit to launch into a discourse on her various children's personalities and their hypothetical responses to cancer. The doctor nods along as if he needs a reminder that Nora is an older woman with five kids and more than a luggage rack full of baggage. Nora suddenly realizes that she is rambling rudely and asks if he has any children. He smirks, no kids, no wife, just a motorcycle, and a hankerin' for cougar.
OH GOD. Could Rebecca just die already so Justin can quit trying to diagnose her? She claims it was just flu leftovers that kept her in bed, but that does not satisfy "Dr." Justin. He needs to check every symptom, go over her medical history, run some tests. He suggests she might have Epstein Barr and... oh who the fuck cares. The point is, she doesn't have cancer. Justin looks stunned that Rebecca doesn't want to play doctor anymore. And they aren't even married yet!
Sarah is tasked with calling The Senator and reporting that his wife has opted to join HerbaLife instead of continuing with chemo. The Senator doesn't have time to defend Walker Manor from the incursion of Amway salesmen, as he has a racist old man to school. He promises to talk to Kitty later and hangs up. It's High Noon and he is ready to rumble. The classic showdown music plays and The Senator walks over to the crank with his head held high and Kevin playing the traditional woman's role of holding the fighter's arm and begging him to take it easy. The Senator shakes Kevin off and marches into war whistling "Onward Christian Soldiers" and waving an American flag. The old dude starts it by reporting that The Senator seemed a little flat during their debate and he wants to beat The Senator's A game, not his C minus one. Is The Senator running in the wrong primary? The Senator draws, aims, and fires, "You know what's wrong with you, Henderson? You are scared, because all of the advantages you had have all fallen by the wayside. The game's not fixed anymore." Ooh zinger! Pow! Henderson claims he is a successful businessman, but The Senator knows that he just inherited the company from his grandfather. And what his grandfather stood for was hard work and the ability to make something from your life. Henderson's hatred of honest hard-working immigrants is the opposite of that. Blammo! Henderson claims that he is just trying to "preserve the American way of life". The Senator laughs bitterly at that choice of phrase, because it was popularized by no less than the KKK. The Senator thinks that perhaps Henderson should work to preserve the phrase that begins with "All men are created equal." Bam! The Senator can't believe that children -- his children -- have to listen to his "race-baiting xenophobic garbage". TKO! TKO! Henderson doesn't bother to respond as The Senator tells him to keep it up. If he wants his "A game" he'll get it. He leaves Henderson in his wake as he walks away. Kevin jumps up and down and claps and asks Henderson if The Senator still seems flat. Even though I am a Democrat, I would totally vote for The Senator based on that speech. And for some reason I really believe that moderate Republicans are far less annoying then conservative Democrats (or weird independents from Connecticut.) So who cares if he wants kill health care reform! He is on fire!
Kitty is trying to pick out an outfit for tonight's benefit. Somehow she has gotten her hands on the dress I wore to the seventh grade semi-formal. I always wondered what happened to it. Not that I wanted it back as it is mortifying to even see it on Kitty's frame. It's a chinoiserie print in a blood orange shade with gold accents and a vintage look complete with a little bejeweled belt. It's quintessential small town Oregon semi formal material for sure. Anyway, it's ugly and Sarah does not hesitate in telling her so. Sarah starts giggling about all th