The Diagnosis The doctor saw his face and sighed, and in the silent shock replied: “Some cells, their purposes askew, not doing what they’re supposed to do, are claiming space inside of you.” The patient somehow understood this deviation from the good, and thought: When did it all begin— genetics? Some specific sin? Youthful error? Selfish pride? Resentment festering inside? Abuse of body, neglect of soul; an utter lack of self-control— all appetites allowed to reign: indulgence, idleness, disdain, long years of lust and darkened thought. How much of me is really not, all heart and mind pervasive rot? then turning sadly to his wife said, “I’ve had cancer all my life.”
How much of me is really not,
all heart and mind pervasive rot?
I suspect its common to question the "reasons" for such misfortunes as cancer, to look at them in terms of responsibility and guilt. This piece beautifully articulates those questions. Well done.
Stunning, thank you so much. Such a poignant perspective. It has always struck me that in our society endless growth is considered a good, whereas transposed to the human body you get rapidly dividing cells that form tumours….