A low-dose, three-day course of Prednisone has pretty much wiped out the rash. There are shadows here and there where the rash lingers, but for the most part, it is gone. I have an appointment with my breast surgeon on Monday and the oncologist on the following Friday. I have no doubt they are putting together some sort of plan, but for now I’m just going to sit back into the nothingness of the unknown. I am not thinking about rogue cancer cells, I am thinking about moving on — going forward into my life.
I’ve been writing again, essays mostly, and it feels exactly right, this urgency to get the words out. I have my eye on a couple of literary journals, and have been spending my days rewriting and polishing and reading submission guidelines. It’s been a long time since I’ve tried submitting for publication, but I have a good feeling about this. I sense personal essays are staging a comeback, and I want in.
In other news, we are piecing together our summer, making plans and mapping out the first 10 days of our trip when James will be with us. And this too feels exactly right. Joni Mitchell is singing in my ear again, California, I’m coming home.