I was going to tell you guys about the last week. I was going to tell you about getting my UW letter — the rejection letter. I was going to tell you about my dog getting sick, requiring an overnight stay in the emergency clinic, and how scared I was I was going to lose her. I was going to talk about how the stress of the last month has kept me from sleeping, caused hives to pop up on my body, how I put myself in timeout on Saturday after getting dizzy because I’d forgotten to eat.
Then my roommate took the above picture. And my perspective shifted.
This is our reality today. And tomorrow. Just as the cancer invaded Kim’s body, it’s invading our lives. A length of tubing, a snake slithering around our house, a vine climbing the stairs and taking over everything. An oxygen tank, its presence an unwelcome and constant reminder of the fragility of the body. Of life. And, at the same time, a tangible reminder to breathe in/breathe out. One day at a time, one hour at a time, one minute at a time, one breath at a time. Sometimes I focus on making the most of each breath. Other times I just wonder which breath is going to be the last.
Fucking cancer.
(Photo credit EPGadin)