Roadmap

      I love maps. I loved geography class in school. I drew maps of the neighborhood, maps of the house, maps of my bedroom. I covered the walls of my dorm room with old maps from National Geographic magazine. One of my favorite books is the huge atlas that takes up the whole table when opened. When I arrive somewhere new, one of the first things I do  is get a map. I mark where I am and then I mark the places I go. Yep, I'm that geek.

     I especially like to study that map later and see where I have been.  I can see how big the Great Salt Lake really is. How tiny Great Britain really is. How close Vermont is to Montreal.  I like to study history by tracing events on a map. See how far those pioneers walked when they settled the American West? On foot? I'm not sure I would have done that. See that tiny chunk of land that everybody claims is theirs? It's very small. No wonder they fight. Looking at a map helps me understand people, helps me understand the past, puts it all in perspective for me.


      ***************************GRAPHIC ALERT***********************************

      ******************************REALLY!!!!!************************************

     ********************CLICK OUT IF YOU ARE SQUEAMISH************************

     ***********************It's not that bad, but really, you were warned********************


    At my appointment with my oncologist,every 3 months, they palpate my belly feeling for new growth. This time, when I bared my belly, I heard a gasp. "Wow, we really did a number on you." Yep. You can tell what happened to me by looking at my belly, by looking at the map of scars. It's not only a record of my past two years of living, but also a record of my challenges and indirectly a record of my triumphs. Let's take a look...

    It's all there for the record. You can see the main vertical valley from 4 major abdominal surgeries. The divot from the first ileostomy and the smaller divot below from the second ileostomy. The little hole from the gastric tube. The 4 smaller holes from the stab wound drains. You don't see the 4 more inches heading south ending in a big puckered dimple. You don't see my belly button. I finally lost anything resembling that after the last surgery. The main scar used to be straight up and down. My bowel perforation destroyed so much tissue that they had to sew me up patchwork style and hope that it held. I survived that! My belly looks pretty damn good after a year of healing! A year! Of Healing! Wow. That's where I've been. But I'm back now.  <3

   P.S. No wisecracks about the muffin!