It's been a month after my surgery. Time is relative or so they say. How true. If I had access to Father Time, I would have forwarded myself a couple of years into the future in order to avoid the unpleasantries of the present. But why stop there? Why not go back in time to get that lump fixed at the beginning before it turned malignant? Why not indeed?
Other than that, I'm still sleeping fitfully. The numbness hasn't disappeared. I wondered if it ever will. Then again, I am a pessimist. The repressed optimist inside me is still crying out for a miracle. Any miracle. What sort of miracle am I wishing for? That's easy. I want the mother of all miracle. To wake up tomorrow and discover that this was just a bad dream.
You might say I have an issue with Acceptance. I'd say you're right. Who, in his/her right mind, is prepared to accept their destiny if it proved as beastly as mine? Is it possible to reject my destiny?
My molar hurts. I don't know if a gum infection is coming up. My sister-in-law recommended Biotene, a mouthwash intended for dry mouths. (Especially helpful for those undergoing chemotherapy sessions.) It helps with the sore but I don't know if the ache in my molar will go away. Will this probable gum infection take a rain check and come back later? Like six months later? Or, like never?
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