Tuesday, July 1, 2025

     I am sad to finish the Physical Therapy sessions.  23 sessions this year. I am walking better and I am more confident. I like working with the Physical therapist. But I am not done with the waiting room. Tomorrow, I am back for a urine test to prepare for surgery.

     PT is the only treatment that actually makes me stronger and healthier.  All the other medical treatments involve cutting and burning and poisoning and intrusive equipment, damaging my body in fighting off the cancer cells.  I know, it is complicated, and everyone is trying to help heal me, but still, I am getting more and more damaged.

     This morning the waiting area is filled with early morning patients, warm cozy room. Everyone on their cell phones. At first, I don’t see anything to write about. Finally, I notice two women, at different times, walk into the room and use the bathroom, then leave the building. So this is a safe bathroom for women walking around town. 

     The sun comes out in the afternoon. I keep watching a solitary fly zoom around the living room.  Outside the bees are busy in the flowers. Three black crows pace in the newly cleared back yard, stopping to peck at the ground. I pace on the deck, back and forth building up my walking muscles. I want to be a black crow.