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The Sangre Flower

“When you live with a potentially life-threatening condition you get used to the thought of dying. You accept it, you push on. The thing that scared me was the picture of dying slowly and painfully, the loss of independence and identity to illness.” ― Josh Lanyon

Que hermosa palabra.

It’s my word.
A present definition without a resolution.

I was sitting in the Chemotherapy Room on Thursday, waiting to see if I needed a Blood Transfusion.
Remembering the 5 RBC Transfusions I had in 2004, I was not focused on the now.

My CBC Results arrived with a double edge sword.
My Counts were stable, but the blood loss and pain is uncounted for.

Blood Loss.
I was in Super Target the night before, buying a new Outfit for my newer job, and as I was browsing the sweatshop goods, it is as if my Colon detached itself and swam out and away.

I fast paced my feet to the checkout line.
Sweat covering me.
Chills bringing me down.

I asked to leave my cart at the checkout, and found myself hovering over their toilet.
Blood inside the bleached bowl.
Blood on the stained white tiled floor.

I had 10 minutes to put myself back together as the store was Closing.

I was truly upset.

I had just taught my ESL 300 Class, drove the 50 round trip miles home, then to excite my closet with a new outfit, but to only find death once again.

Open my eyes like a flower blooming in dusk.
I was nauseous after my CBC
(an event that has not occurred in over a Decade)
I could smell the Cancer all around me.
The soft recliners that give hope as Chemotherapy drips into broken promises.

The Oncology Nurse was checking up on my nausea, as my Mother was uncomfortable.

I am thankful I did not need a Transfusion of any type that afternoon, but my Body is telling me its dying secrets.


“Y por que el sol es tan mal amigo del caminante en el desierto?

Y por que el sol es tan simpatico en el jardin del hospital?”
Pablo Neruda

”The claw
Of the magnolia,
Drunk on its own scents,
Asks nothing of life.” ― Sylvia Plath

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