Something Evil This Way Comes

It’s funny being on an island in the 21st century. That old internet, even as a dial-up connection, just brings the world to your door. Even when your door is on a cabin with 15 amps of electricity and no hot water.

Not complaining. I am liking it.

Just so peeps know, the Globe is continuing to do feature articles on cancer, cancer patients, cancer survivors, the politics of cancer, and drugs and research all this week.

And one woman on one of my ovarian cancer e-mail lists actually scrolled through that enormous article and singled out the link for my page. For anyone who can’t make it through the whole article, which is intense, and who wants to see my little claim to fame, you can just go here:

http://www.theglobeandmail.com/servlet/story/RTGAM.20061116.wdayinthelife33/BNStory/cancer/home

It’s been interesting in a painful sort of way to read those stories. I confess, I made it through about 80% of the Saturday article and then my head collapsed. And has been experiencing major structural damage ever since. It’s weird to parachute back through time and remember all those feelings and fears, real fears. It was pretty intense. It was interesting to have all that happen while I am out here in my little cabin and more or less on my own. That was okay. Not fun, but okay.  And really, I am learning about being alone and figuring things out. So, it was a rocky ride, but it feels like there is a shift that is starting to take place, slowly. One hopes, anyway.

Anyway, all in all, it’s good. It’s hard but it’s good.

And I continue to be impressed by the folks at the Globe and all the work they have done on this cancer series. It’s painful to read, but it’s a good thing and I think it’s good for people to have this exposure.

Roger Dodger, over and out.

A quick update about life on the island.

I arrived here yesterday morning, unloaded my stuff and got settled and was immediately welcomed into a circle of folks.

Island life is very friendly. Folks seem very concerned for my well-being, which is interesting since I really don’t know these folks.

I walk around the island and ravens fly over my head and I hear them coming from the great “whoosh, whoosh” sound their wings make as the approach.

I drive by deer, standing quietly at the side of the road.

At night, I walk from one cabin to another and I am stunned by the stars above me.

I wake up in the morning and wonder why I am not being smothered by my cats, but hopefully I will remedy that in a few days.

I am not really an island person, but I like it here. I like having time to just let my shoulders drop a bit and that I care less about the things that I shouldn’t be caring about at all.

I like it. It’s quiet and friendly and good. My shoulders could still stand to drop down an inch or two, but I think this was a good move.

And I have e-mail, so please stay in touch.