The Golden Mirror
March 14 I am packing the last of the boxes. The fluorescent lights in my office buzz with a frequency that has always grated against the temporal lobe, a sound I spent thirty years ignoring and now find impossible to filter out. I am fifty-eight. The diagnosis was six weeks ago, pancreatic adenocarcinoma, stage four. The doctors use the word "aggressive" as if the tumor is a person with bad...
0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 2 Views 0 Anteprima