I sit, warmly blanketed, in a bland room. The dim light on the wall opposite is an assault on my closed eyes. There’s no clock and no windows. The air conditioning hums loudly for intervals and then cuts off. My eyes water but I don’t raise a hand to brush the liquid away. Sometimes I imagine the radioactive isotope seeping through me. I think I can feel it like a heavy slug in my heart, in my kidneys, even in my legs. I twitch involuntarily.
Later, strapped to a bed in the donut of spinning xrays, I feel minute.
I think: “I am as inconsequential as a dot.” A whisper starts in my head. “Crucial to finding the way is this: there is no beginning or end.” Like a dot. A tear runs down to my ear. Again, I can’t wipe it away.
This was written for MerrildSmith's dVerse Prosery Prompt - Finding Your Way. She asks us to use a line from Joy Harjo's poem 'A Map To The Next World'. The line is "Crucial to finding the way is this: there is no beginning or end." We must write 144 words or less of prose including that line.
NB: The good news is, this scan found no other cancer!