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dealing with deleting “cancer”
It is a confession of sorts. I do not want to write about being diagnosed with cancer, living with cancer, or expecting to die from cancer. In the beginning, cancer hung from every sentence, anchoring me down to an unfamiliar place, where one could easily get lost, were it not for the kindness of strangers. Like Rhonda, not a stranger…
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world cancer day: a reprise
My breast cancer is not just about me as I discovered when my daughter decided to break her silence about it. In her own way. On Facebook. On World Cancer Day 2012. Thus, on a day designated for speaking up and out, I share with you her words and mine from February 4, 2012 . . . The Real Warrior…
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catching poetry’s life lines
My parents were raised in rural County Derry at a time and place that produced the “folk healer,” that individual uniquely gifted with “the cure” or “the charm” for whatever ailed them. Consulted only after it was determined that the medical doctor was flummoxed, the folk healer meted out charms in plasters and poultices, in potions that swirled in brown bottles. It was…