There are questions. The profile isn’t exact and can only be confirmed on visualization and surgery. So then the “concern for malignancy” right now is more of an accusation than a condemnation.
It’s a process. Cancer isn’t a rush to judgement but more a study of what is it, where is it, how do we approach it, then how do we treat it. Only thing we know for certain is it needs to be removed. But even there, there are questions.
I’ve met with one surgeon and will meet with another. Do I choose the facility, the tools, or the artist? I believe that cancer, and its treatment, is as much philosophy, language, performance and visual art as well as medicine. Saying that all physicians would provide the same outcome is saying that putting ten artists in front of the same landscape will render the same painting. Then again, it still is what it is.
Maybe I’m searching for poetry where none exists?
Meanwhile there’s work to be done and done soon. I started my spring clean up late, raking settled piles of leaves and bagging them for pickup. The cuttings I left on the ground when I had trimmed the cherry need to be tied. Now, when I try to break them in smaller pieces, they bend stubbornly before snapping, still supple and still green. Still waiting.
It’s raining lightly outside. But there’s more good weather to come.
Spring hopes eternal…