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Big C: Self Infusions to handle The Cure

January 14, 2012

In battling the Big C and lying on a bed while an IV has to drip a solution of some sort into your body before the next procedure and your legs are getting cold because the warmth has gone from the heated blanket the nurse put on your legs, there’s just time. You really can’t read, listen to music, or watch a movie. You’re in as real a moment as it gets. It almost seems that all those other things you thought entertained you divert you from examining yourself. Because, like I said, this is as real as it gets. So what can come to you in these moments. First you try to divert the twitching pain of the IV inserted like a splinter in your body, then you throw your arm over the head and bury your face in the crook of your elbow. and maybe sigh or say, “Oh shit.”

What do I find? I find I only get upset when I think of all the people who care about me. I don;t really care about myself that much. But the people who are concerned about me, upset me. Then I just drift into different periods and memories and future hopes of my life. Where is this taking me? I’ve been drafted into this journey. And slowly forgotten or faded moments of your life acquire a clarity. It’s like you’re settling over a core of yourself the way a hen sits on an egg. You know it’s all you, so it just feels so damn good. Maybe this is how wine gets better in the bottle, or how dishes marinate and get better. If you don’t take the situation personally, there’s a lot that comes into you and gives you strength because you drawing together different parts of your life and reassembling them. Just as cancer has the benefit of mutating and growth, you’re altering yourself too. But where cancer just outgrows its host, you outgrown yourself, like the same way a snake can slough off it’s skin. And if you’ve lived s good life, these forces form and condense.

I’m assuming bad people are usually haunted so instead of experiencing these moments. They can only understand life if they’re consuming it for themselves. They can only have a toxic epiphanies: they whine about their pain, want a TV, or scream for drugs, or lament “Why did this happen to me?”

But if you have love, if you’ve tapped into the best of yourself to spread it around, you might be grounded, but you’re flying without wings.

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