We were huddled in the bathroom, her head over the commode as I held her hair with one hand and placed the other on her shoulder for support. When I walked out twenty minutes later the woman waiting outside told her to go home and sleep it off. I gave her a dirty look and kept walking.

Cancer is perfectly capable of dancing on its own, but it has a rhythm that if danced with, sometimes causes its demise. There are many ways to envision an intruder, but I’ve always considered finding a way to work with them, because I know we are the same person with different perceived needs.

Arriving home I went first to the shower and after a few seconds realized I didn’t have enough energy to do anything with the water. I sat on the commode, my appreciation for clean toilets growing by the hour. In the writing I sometimes claim to have experiences with friends, but most often it is me who is befriending me.

It’s nothing to be ashamed of, especially if the relationship trains you to be a good dancer.

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