It has been just over one year since I was diagnosed with cancer. Since then I have had surgery, chemotherapy, six months of lying around on the couch staring out the window at the dappled light of days yawning and stretching over the sky until the night slinked in. I felt suspended in a giant aquarium of a cisplatin; time stopped for six months. I questioned myself, my work, the world, death, and the spirit beyond. I struggled to have faith in the doctors, in the treatment, and in myself. Everyone was so sure I would be fine - I was such a ‘positive’ person - I would be back and at it in no time. Truth is I was scared, very scared, and all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and hide under the blankets.
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