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Writer's pictureKara Muir

I live in the crevices between life and death...

Who doesn’t really BUT not everyone bases their lives on tests and those in authority reading said tests and determining treatments based on results of diagnostic machines and those who interpret said machines. While this reading of the signs and rolling the dice on my treatment happens, I lie on a virtual slab of the in between parts AKA crevices usually in a fetal position with my hands clenched waiting for the blows of truth, or truth as far as they know, which is more than I know... It can make you crazy not to be able to look ahead in the book to see what and how things happen, to be able to see that you got through a harrowing experience but healed against the odds.


My CT scan was a mixed bag and I don’t completely understand the implications of the findings except for the part that says my doctor has determined that chemotherapy is back on next week. My liver tumors are stable though it looks like my rectal tumor may have had a bit of a party but who knows? Even my oncologist looks at my pelvis as an island of mystery and misfit toys, a swampy mess, a chronic infection. This uncertainty is not new but I am disappointed that I am still not better, it plugs into that failure/loser feeling that has been a part of me my whole life. Not good enough...Never good enough. You aren’t pretty, you have no talent, you are not special, you are fat and stupid, you will never be Rose Festival Princess or free from this disease, how could ANYONE love you?! Now I am getting teen emo Kara mixed up with middle aged emo Kara, I hear a voice as I write this “You can’t even get that right.”

As I yammer on with my thumbs and read my words I think about cancer and really what a self loathing disease it is. Maybe not always, I mean babies 😳 but for the life experienced person, I do think negativity and lack of self love contribute to disease, though this is just my opinion. If we have the ability to heal ourselves, why can’t I personally do it? I think part of healing is learning how to forgive and love yourself as hokey and gross as that sounds. Maybe if I can truly forgive and love myself fully, whether or not my physical disease goes away, that is the goal? I don’t know, maybe I want there to be more meaning than cells just going wonky and fucking up my life. I guess I need to really put in more effort and see what happens. Try harder Kara.


Until next time ♥️











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