Growing into cancer


Today I purchased a domain name: Turquoise Gates. Just type my blog name without the ".blogspot". It's a big step, growing into my own skin as a writer, committing in a new way to this blog. I started it on a whim and the push from a friend in those early days of cancer, between biopsy and surgery, when life was amorphous and too mist-like to grab hold of. I didn't know where truth lay, whether I'd be fighting for my life or breathing a sigh of relief. Three years later, I can't stop writing because I'm still fighting. Cancer is still present and I am still dealing. And so I buy the domain. It feels like buying cancer. Saying I'll have it for another year. Really it's just $10 and two little words, a space on the internet and nothing more.

And so I wave to cancer today, through the sunny sky and under the fluffy down of my comforter. November is here again, marking 3 years since I counted pearls on a string the last day before my big treatment. I should be going in for a scan and a treatment, but there is shortage of the medications I need and I won't do it until January this year. And so I breath, the fall air crisp with dying bracken and heavy with the smell of snow, and glory in this day of just waving at cancer, not being it, not living it, not fighting it. Just being. I guess I have grown into the cancer skin and it feels comfortable these days. Being alive is what I grasp for now. Really alive. I rub the 7 day fuzz of new hair on my scalp, think they must have invented velcro from stubble, and smile at the sky.


Today I wrote for 5 minutes using TheGypsyMama's prompt: Grow.