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Intermission: Chemo Brain and sketch pads of Big C images

February 15, 2012

When I look outside it’s like a separate world, almost like a pool I can’t dive into because it’s too deep or cold.  Images beyond me are sketches of a world I’m not painting or playing in. I’m just stuck in a healing neutral. Weary and staggering to the light.My stomach and the taste buds are the worst, it’s like someone lit a sulphur stick in my stomach and lined my teeth with aluminum. Sometimes a flavor can crash through.

They say listen to your body. I will my body would shut the hell up. But as I lay down, I spent about ten hours sleeping, which is a relief because it means I’m just sleepwalking through my march and time is passing to the next treatment. On the plus, I lay there and feel my organs rumble and growl–that’s new! A little thunder around the shrinking tumor. I believe my organs are stretching out because they are getting more room. It’s a crawling fist moving and streaming around me and I’m grateful for it.

Cancer is being stalked. I’m on the trail on a mud-dried cracked surface, flecks of earth’s clay armor. I’m seeing signs of weakness because I’m tracking it. I listen to music as I write this, everything from blues to Hank Williams to reggae to rock to alternative sounds–anything that the the Big C can’t sing. The great tradition of sound and music that has always swept me away and keeping me afloat. This entry might seem scattered because I’m scattered with Chemo focus, it’s like I’m licking stamps and putting them on envelopes but not addressing them.

The wilderness is full of mutations.

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