I go

I don’t allow myself to go there very often –

that place where I’ve never heard those three big words,

            “You have cancer,”

that place where health isn’t really an issue,

where every decision isn’t altered by disease,

where the future stretches out all

            smooth and happy-normal,

where I enjoy weddings and

            grandkids and anniversaries and

            retirement with my husband,

where I don’t wonder if I’ll be replaced, and

            I never script my own funeral,

that place where I don’t know chronic pain and

            think about recurrence,

where insurance is not a tightrope,

            just a monthly obligation,

where cancer only happens to other people and

            it isn’t in their eyes every time they look at me,

that place where needle sticks are rare and

            side-effects unknown –

I know I can’t stay there.

I don’t go there often.

But I go.