The scary part wasn't not knowing. Now that she knew, the apprehension seemed to envelope her very core. The dawn still came; the clouds still formed, and the night still cascaded over the mountain tops at sunset. Her existence did not matter in the course of nature. Mother Earth continued her daily routine without disruption. But how could this be? One of her daughters, a seed of life, personified humanity was suffering. It mattered not in the scheme of the universe. But in a small town, whispers of terminal disease were something that could condemn anyone to a mundane life of question and answer panels and cheesy get well cards from forgotten relatives. So although the earth was not mourning the morose situation, she was with her loved ones by her side.
Reluctantly, she answered each well wish, went to each appointment, and agreed to every syllable mentioned by the swarm of physicians that were helping with her case. Although she felt like a lost cause, she pressed on. There wasn't much she could do other than what she was already doing. She didn't see the psychologist yet, but other than that she was doing everything that should could to get "wicked healthy", as the radiation doctor would say. Medicines, surgeries, radiation, complications; these were words that were like strangers to her. Never had daily life turned into such weighing and measuring, waiting and thinking. Sure, thinking and dwelling were two of her unfortunate hobbies; however, thoughts like these were never topic of conversation even in her mind. The subject typically was suitable for a kitchen table. Fortunately, her thoughts were only inner monologues, otherwise it is safe to say the next hoop to jump through would be a straight jacket.
Reluctantly, she answered each well wish, went to each appointment, and agreed to every syllable mentioned by the swarm of physicians that were helping with her case. Although she felt like a lost cause, she pressed on. There wasn't much she could do other than what she was already doing. She didn't see the psychologist yet, but other than that she was doing everything that should could to get "wicked healthy", as the radiation doctor would say. Medicines, surgeries, radiation, complications; these were words that were like strangers to her. Never had daily life turned into such weighing and measuring, waiting and thinking. Sure, thinking and dwelling were two of her unfortunate hobbies; however, thoughts like these were never topic of conversation even in her mind. The subject typically was suitable for a kitchen table. Fortunately, her thoughts were only inner monologues, otherwise it is safe to say the next hoop to jump through would be a straight jacket.
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