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Cancer doesn’t have a home

May 31, 2012

I won’t know until June 25th if I’m completely cancer free. It’s like having a time bomb inside me. I don’t know if it’s a dud or armed. And what do I do in the jail cell that is my body? I sit and watch the British Detective series Inspector Morse. I’m never that big on mysteries or crossword puzzles. But I know why I’m watching this show. My Mom and Dad would watch British mysteries together on TV. My Mom would always make a running commentary on who she suspected might be the killer, and my Dad would try to shush her so he wouldn’t miss some of the dialogue. And My Dad always got a kick out of a detective who had a fondness for the sauce. And as I watch these shows I imagine they are with me. I smile. I’m home with them again, gaining strength. Cancer doesn’t have a home in me.

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