Thursday and A Poem

[nightdog_barks]

Met my radiation doc today. She is tall and dark and beautiful. :-D

Also, the November 28th issue of The New Yorker came, with a poem from one of my favorite writers in it:

Convalescing

I spend the days deciding
on a commemorative poem.
Not, luckily, an epitaph.
A quiet poem
to establish the fact of me.
As one of the incidental faces
in those stone processions.
Carefully done.
Not claiming that I was
at any of the great victories.
But that I volunteered.

~ Jack Gilbert

Comments

[taiga13]

Oh, those last lines say so much. Lovely.
Finally an oncologist who looks like Wilson ;)

[nightdog_barks]

Finally an oncologist who looks like Wilson.

AT LONG LAST. :-D

[blackmare]

That is lovely.

&hearts

[nightdog_barks]

Isn't it? I am a big fan of Gilbert's work.

[damigella]

Not, luckily, an epitaph.
Indeed. That's what you've done, after all: written down what happened as memento, but kept your mind and heart open to the future. A long, happy future, starting now with a tall dark radiologist.

Will you get tattoos for the radiotherapy? those are also marks of having fought a batltle, good reminders. Or at least that's what one of my closest friends tells me. (hugs) (more hugs)

[nightdog_barks]

:-D

Will you get tattoos for the radiotherapy?

Yep. Supposedly three of them, very tiny, like the dot at the top of a typed "i". I do not think I will mind.