Around Bag End...
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Today, I am sitting on the hardwood floor, in our lounge room. My body feels pretty normal. My neck aches a little, my tummy is full of dinner, my mouth tastes nicely, of the drink I just gulped. I am weary from a day of work, and the transition of coming home to my beautiful, energetic, noisy children. Benjamin is cycling home in the darkness. I am always happier when everyone is safely home. My biggest fear is one of my loved ones dying. Oh, and I have lymphoma, stage four. What does this even mean? I'm just me. Mortal, but that is in the one-day-far-away category, isn't it? The doctor, bizarrely, told me there are a lot of little lymphomae, tripping around my lymph system, like jiggling jelly-fish in a warm sea. Some of them have twisted all together, left of my belly-button, and I can feel them. An 8cm x 5cm mobile mass, says the computerised tomography report. I can feel lumps in my neck and groin, and can imagine these funny little lymphomae, dancing around
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