|Pink Sands of Suck|
Anniversaries instill a renewed appreciation. A spouse, a home, a job, good friends, loving pets - small fortunes, all. I am lucky enough to have enjoyed a long uneventful stretch of cancerless good health - nearly 4 years of it, closer to that magic number 5.
We plan a beach getaway for our 28th wedding anniversary and in the interim stay busy with the home projects that were postponed due to cancer. Things are getting done, the house is looking great.
The Pink Monster (fears of recurrence, new cancer, metastatic, cancer cancer freaking cancer, etc.) stays away during daylight hours. I've worked relentlessly on its exorcism from my thoughts, dreams and life.
Monsters are notoriously ill-mannered and love to crash parties, always in the dark. So while on holiday, our feet scrubbed clean by pristine sand, basking in the perfect carefree beach days, collecting shells and watching sunsets, my monster comes at night. It brings dreams of vast gloomy medical centers, menacing white-coats, the taste of chemotherapy, needles needles needles, tumors sprouting out of control, and fear galore. All claws and teeth, it chases me till dawn.
What to do with you, little monster? All my running never grows the distance between us. I'm so tired of trying to escape you.
As you pounce, I spin with your velocity and embrace you. Your needle claws rest on my flat chest, where the scars are strong and you cannot pierce my bright, beating heart. I pull you in tighter, your scaly hide familiar and cool. We are so very close, you and I. We've been through many things together. Monstrous things, you might say. Things that could give a girl nightmares.