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Aspirations of a Bubble Universe

There was the void

An aching, fluid darkness

How long did it grow there

Taking shape

Expanding

Until

Pierced from without

Into the void flowed

Cosmic dust and starlight

Injected in swirling galactic eddies

Did sentient beings evolve

Living, warring, breeding, dying

As the stars drifted in the universal currents

In a cruel reversal of fate

Moments later

Eons later

The void collapsing

The stars, the planets, the light drawn along

A single strong current

Black hole with undeniable pull

Wormhole with inescapable grasp

Devouring every star

Swallowing every particle

Every mote removed

Until even

The void itself withdrew

Replaced by nothing

The former edges of the universe

Become a single layer

In spacetime

Somewhere

Somewhen else

A darkness begins to expand

silhouette of mountain under starry night
Photo by Sam Kolder on Pexels.com

I had a scary medical thing happen, which I wrote about here in the post Buried Alive. Yesterday, I went to have the biopsy done.

My friend drove me to what would have been the biopsy. She left me when they led me back into a second reception room. Even though I knew there would be a terrific chance of survival, a cancer diagnosis is still scary – more procedures, more doctor’s appointments, more expense, possible side effects would all have been in order.

The procedure was explained, what to expect, who would be in the room, the order things would happen, the equipment which would be used, the sounds that would be made – a very thorough and welcome explanation. And then the doctor came in to speak with me – to answer questions, and explain that there was a good chance that what had shown up as a suspicious spot might have been just a shadow.

Waiting in the small reception room with some wallflowers.

Just a shadow.

And they would try to confirm or deny. If there was no spot, then no biopsy. Nothing to biopsy. No cancer.

But they could go ahead and aspirate that cyst if I liked, either way. Yes, please.

They used an imaging scanner during the aspiration, and I watched the whole thing, which is as described above in the poem. I continue to be amazed at medical technology, and grateful to the people who learn it, use it, and who bring their compassion with them to their jobs.

And that is how I have come to have needed no biopsy, and have aspirations instead.

I told them that my dreams of being irradiated could wait for, perhaps, another day.

It was a good day to find out I don’t have cancer.

Later that day, I walked up to get some ice cream.

Walked by the old railroad tracks which have been converted into a walking/biking trail.

It was a beautiful day for ice cream.

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Buried Alive

There’s a moment of desperation

When it all goes awry

A breakneck pace of events

Wondering

Will you live or

Will you die

Inevitable

Of course

A chance encounter

Might brush one off the path

Without warning

And yet

That stark clarity

Ultraviolet black light

Superimposition

Wreath while waiting in between diagnostic tests

Adrenaline rush

Of an intruder within

One’s own body

Sacred

Terms of terror

Biopsy

Will you live or die

Heads or tails

And how does one prepare

To say those

Words to family and friends:

“I’ve been caught out with a fatal condition

(LIFE)

with no cure and no hope but for a painless end.”

~ diagnosed to die
Waiting with a wall quilt

And to feel like I’ve

Let them down

And failed somehow

To survive another chapter and that

The writer of my life

Has no mercy

Is killing the character

I had loved to hate and

Hated to love

The character I learned to

Cherish and value

And yet here we were

We were buying burial plots

And stitching a shroud

Of memories for the end

Images were taken of

My insides inside out

Technicians tears and mine

Were mingled in the doubt

This year spent shielded

From the virus

Only to be vaccinated

And find death sneaking

In a back door left

Unguarded

In the waiting room. It would be good news, but we didn’t know that yet

How death cheated I supposed

How apropos I figured

Because again I felt

That precious wonder in

Each breath

I want to live

I want to live

And all those images

Would say that

There’s a small suspicious spot

It’s early

No matter if the worst

Case comes to pass

You’ve got this and it

Feels just like

A second chance

Life is short, and we never know, really, how short it will be

My good friend went with me to the urgent care, and to the stat diagnostic appointment the next morning. The period between the initial visit and the test results were fraught with tension, grief, preparation, and panic. The nurse, doctors, technicians were all compassionate, caring, and made this process less isolating than it could have been. A later appointment with the surgeon confirmed a probable positive prognosis. There still may be a significant journey ahead, but my chances are good, and I am grateful for that.

In addition to that, I am making some big life changes – in the middle of moving back to a place a used to live. I’m shedding all of my possessions but what fits into two car loads. The rest I have been, and am still, giving away. What I bring back into my life will be carefully evaluated for usefulness and beauty and character.