#Stage4cancer brings to mind a place a movie might portray. For instance the inescapable slow walking monster approaches my house and I hear the ugly abhorrent thing rapping, scraping on my door. Perhaps, more subtly, one dark and stormy night, the wind kicks up frightening me with a tree branch running its claws along my windows. Am I dreaming in color of the darkest places my consciousness has to offer on tonight’s mind menu?
Tag: metastatic cancer blog
And of our own self images, they’re not influenced by much positive representations. Especially those of us at stage IV. The stage no one wants to know much about at all. We, the misfits, don’t measure up to Santa’s ultra high standards, and become the toys left behind on Christmas Eve. Weepy-eyed, we stand shivering from the cold, waving goodbye to the tail end of a sleigh, to Santa Clause’s fat ass, and reindeer tail lights.