Blog

I didn’t have a say in it, when my dad went into the ministry. It’s 1979 when I am swept along        with boxes          and shoes            and books to Junction City, Kentucky,      from Mississippi’s Pine Belt. Still south to you      up north to me. People talk faster      using different words,        noticing my words are slow          and quaint. Perpetually unlocked, the sanctuary      becomes mine during the week.  Quiet towers over my short stature,      as I pass

18 Mar 2016 Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. The words came out of his mouth so normal, so smooth. Calm & quiet. Cancer. Suddenly the world changed. Not dramatic like an earthquake that kills hundreds of thousands of people, or a tsunami washing over the land with a force incomprehensible, or a loved one dying or leaving for good. Just change, calm & quiet like his voice and words. No press release or formal ceremony nor a panicked firestorm of emotions and grief. Calm, quiet shift in rea

4 July 2016 I'm not going to die. Not from this and not now. I don't know I'm not going to die because God told me or because I am more blessed than others. I know I'm not going to die because I have the most beatable cancer and I have no other factors working against my prognosis. I'm quite healthy except for the cancer. My prognosis to live beyond 5 years is the same as it would be if I didn't have cancer at all. pause Ok, I'm fairly and reasonably certain I'm not going to

April 21, 2016 We all know "losing" one's hair is more often a part of chemotherapy than not. My case is no exception. I'm receiving the drug adriamyacin, known as the red devil because of its color, which causes total hair loss. Anyone who knows me, knows me by my hair. After hearing of my diagnosis, many people's first reaction is to ask, "Oh, will you lose your hair?" Yes, I'll lose my hair. Also, I might die. I chose to lose my hair by my own hand. Not for a moment was I

26 Mar 2016 First the back story. Then a string of little stories. Hang in there with me; it's cool. It was 2013, and I was living in Haiti inside a fairly intense situation: living communally, on an active construction site, managing said construction, all projects, and in charge of the logistics for the large teams of Americans that arrived monthly. I had just a few things on my plate. As the year progressed, I was increasingly isolated inside these close quarters and I foc