Saturday, November 24, 2012


"I was traumatized by my own fear.  I responded with such an outpouring of fear that afterwards, in similar situations, I could feel that younger self vibrating in terror and that would begin to trigger new fear, until I became conscious of what was happening.  Standing by the answering machine, hearing the doctor's message--"go get another mammogram--it might be nothing, but considering your history"--triggering the pounding heart, and then the blind rage of 4 years ago, 3 years ago, every high-tech test in that time period that said maybe, maybe not, we can't tell, but considering...more tests" till in utter disgust I stopped the intrusion of gleaming metal General Electric machines, with their unctuous insistence that they were helping me..."

...Most everyone who goes through cancer knows medical hell.  You sign off your personal, private body, and become a hospital #, a piece of flesh for the machines.  The long hallway in the intestines of the hospital where I went for chemo: people lined up in chairs with needles pumping poison into them, a hospital TV strategically anchored to the wall for their viewing pleasures...

I'm not going back to medical hell.  But then, what?  The question stretched before me in the early light, and I had to admit I was unprepared for it.  Much as I bitingly made fun of big daddy technological medicine, how could I go on without him!