My recent blog posts have been about my sister and my sister in law, both who have been given less than a year/ less that two years to live. My sister, who had the shorter sentence, got the results from a new liver specialist last Thursday. While her liver damage from hepititis is severe, she is not near death. Contrary to what several other doctors said, this expert said that "she is doing great" and that if the time comes that she does need a liver transplant, all the things that she has been doing to improve her health should mean that she will be an acceptable candidate.
On the same day, my sister in law went into the hospital with complications from the chemo she had started for pancreatic cancer. She, who the doctors said had "a year or two," she died last night.
Don't make me go there. Life is a game of roulette. Just quit smoking.
Maybe because I recently skipped my umpteenth high school reunion, and high school's about the last time I wrote poetry, I find myself writing haiku.
I
The grasshopper sits at the foot of the lizard. Who sleeps, bug or gekko?
II
The grasshopper sits at the foot of the meadow. The hawk sees only a stone.
III
The grasshopper sits beside the blooming myrtle. Breathing in, greif fades.
