Day 91

With his Indian accent, the little brown man in the Brooks Brothers suit said, "The cancer has not spread." I could feel the key slip into the lock at that very moment. I could hear the clink of metal on metal as it turned, the creak of the heavy steal door swinging open. I was free from the prison I have been in for the last few weeks. It was a prison of my own making, of course, but I needed those words to free me. Trapped by fear, I didn't know how to escape on my own. I would have figured it out eventually, but I needed time. And that was my greatest fear of all, that there would not be enough time. I am not so naive as to believe that the doctor's pronouncement means that the road ahead will be easy. Cancer, even in its infancy, is often cruel, particularly when it has someone you love in its grips. But it's not really cancer or even death that I fear. My greatest fear is that I/we will never reach that state of grace that comes from acceptance. The doctor says we have time. I know that this is an invitation to begin the journey.