Wishful thinking

5/27/22

The constant beat down which is cancer withers the soul. It takes the strongest people and molds them into feeble beings. For nearly a year now cancer has been affecting my body, causing changes to my once normal daily routines. The treatments seem to have more adverse effects then benefits. I’ve become a shell of the man I once was.

My skin feels like it could peel away. Imagine that piece of fried chicken you bite into and the entire skin of that piece comes off in one motion. It doesn’t even feel like it’s attached anymore. Just loose material hovering above what once was muscle but is now merely bone.

My weight gain has been superficial. It’s all gone to my gut. My arms and legs still look crackheadish. They have no strength to them like dangling appendages blowing in the wind. I’m a tree going into Winter: changing colors, leaves cascading to the ground, clinging to life yet slowly dying.

I’m tired of fighting. I want to surrender. I’ve tried resisting but we all know where that gets us. #GeorgeFloyd. The corruption continues to flow through my body. New ailments arise while the old ones remain. There’s no real relief, only management of symptoms. This evolves into new symptoms which require more management. A vicious never ending circle that shatters resistance until the empire wins. Help me Obi-Wan Kenobi. You’re my only hope.

There’s no uplifting message at the end of this post. I’m tired. I want it to end. I need it to. A moment of weakness is ok. An endless supply of it is not. My resolve is eroding away not unlike the small river bed that eventually became the Grand Canyon. Something so small at its beginning and now considered to be one of the wonders of the world. That’s how cancer works. It starts out small and eventually becomes this massive form that demands acknowledgment. We see you cancer. You’ve accomplished your goal. Now leave me be…

Wishful thinking.