Seven weeks of chemotherapy and radiation, starting Feb. 11. In a burst of sound mind, denial or plain perversity, I drove straight from the radiation oncologist today to the Range in Bernalillo for a green chile cheeseburger. Then home to more calls and emails from wonderful friends going back 40 years.
I don’t want to write about cancer, but the disease is forcing my hand. I fear illness and imagination are disparate states. Despite treatment for prostate cancer 13 years ago, I am still learning what I’m up against this time around. But maybe I’m just being whiny about wanting it to be like the cancer-free …
I write the stuff at dreamranch mostly for myself, but a few friends and family members have tuned in. So, please excuse the sappiness threatening to overtake my entries. I am battling sentimentality as a I approach treatment for lung cancer. I recognize now that the dreaded tone started creeping into my writing 20 months …
dreamranch 