Questions. Answers flooded my mind, but hid from my lips.
Modeled to the crowd – injected into the wheeled circus.
Bed paraded down the hall, as if it takes that many to push it.
Cancer haunted rooms, tests, and lips.
Eerie. Silent. Except for the beeps.
Time stood still. Where was there to go?
Trapped in a machine where the monster came out of hiding.
Meanwhile wrinkly old men pondered their speeches.
“You have brain cancer.”
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Published by Lahla
I am a brain cancer survivor living life after emergency-mode. I’ve gone through everything you hear about, finding out you have cancer, surgery, treatment, making plans, getting help, being unconscious, and so on. I may refer back to that... Shit, it may COME back to that! But for now, I’d like to talk about life AFTER the emergency mode that brain cancer brings. I’d like to talk about normal, regular, everyday life when part of your brain is gone and the rest takes over. I’d like to talk about normal, regular, everyday life when your perspective changes. I’d like to talk about normal, regular, everyday life when others see you differently and they either get you or they don’t. I’ve spent over three and a half years holding this in, mainly because I didn’t want to be labeled as having brain cancer. Many people fail to understand what that label brings. It’s not the same as denial- think about that. However, after all this time, I realize that holding onto it feels like cancer. I didn’t chose cancer but I had chosen to hold onto what felt like cancer. Not any more. So here it goes. I hope you get something good out of it, my brain cancer freeish, everyday life perspective.
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