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I’ve been thinking about Dad lately. I guess, around Thanksgiving was the time we found out he was carrying cancer cells. Lung cancer. Abnormal, freakish, squamous cells, non small cell in fact. Death cells.
I keep remembering the last day, the last hour, the last minute, the last time I saw Dad. It kills me. Makes me tear up and cry, clench the calves of my legs until they cramp up and hurt and twist my leg into a pretzel.
I usually crowd these thoughts out and try not to think.
when it comes down to it.
I think often about my own mutating cancer cells. I’m not diagnosed. I just think it is invietable. I will get cancer and I will die. when? I don’t know. Probably sonner than later. If not that then death by heart attack.
That’s my body type, my destiny, my history, my future… me