I’m okay with other people’s mucus. In truth, I seek it out. I’m a helper. So, I’m okay with difficult truths, with hard and painful and ugly bits. I’m not good with reciprocity. The facts of existence, I’ll share. The ugly bits underneath, the feelings, not so much. They remain locked up tight. I venture forth occasionally but only after much thought and only after … Continue reading Uncomfortable with mucus.
The worst part about the appointment I had with my oncologist, beyond the fact that I have an oncologist which still seems surreal, was not going over the pathology results. Nor was it setting up the schedule for radiation which will run Mondays to Fridays for twenty-six sessions. The worst part was getting weighed. Which tells you a lot, really, about eating disorders and how … Continue reading Cancer and an eating disorder.
I hate confrontations in an incredibly, big-time way. I’ll do almost anything to avoid them, usually to my detriment. I don’t stand up for myself: I don’t share my feelings if I’ve been hurt. I’m determined not to rock the boat. It’s not a policy that works well. For me, at any rate. It works fine for the people I don’t challenge. And because I … Continue reading Confrontation and motivation.
It’s been an interesting few months. That’s actually an ancient Chinese curse – may you live in interesting times. Regardless of whether I’ve been cursed or not – and I suspect not despite my tendency towards self-pity – this last little bit has been tension-filled and fraught.
I had an unfortunate result with a mammogram several months back. A “suspicious lesion” showed up and the tests and procedures that followed started a train in motion that’s proving difficult to get off…
Continue reading So anyhow, radiation.
From Famine to Feast. 