Photo by Jan Hagan of me in more carefree days.
What color is "stuck"?
For several months now, in an exhausting, sometimes merry go round of doctor visits, I've been trying to decide on lung cancer treatment options. All of the docs kindly, yet in disagreement.
It boils down to three options: 1) do nothing, 2) targeted radiation, or 3) the pill, a new kind of treatment for my rare mutation said to treat the genome.
All have their pros and cons. This week I saw a palliative care doc who wants me to decide nothing until we treat the pain. So I've added liquid morphine to the medicine cabinet, which is already spilling over to the sidewalk.
Meanwhile my creative friend Beth in Alameda has been sending me a tanka every day, highlighting a certain color. In traditional Japanese a tanka is 31 syllables, grouped as 5,7,5,7,7. Goodness, as I tried to write one, I kept substituting words because I couldn't decide on the number of syllables. Authors please check me out.
Here we go.
Sucking me down, up, sideways
The color of ooze
With occasional lightness
Mostly void of clarity
A spiral of confusion in quicksand.