I still don’t like recliners. Those big, fat easy chairs which are supposed to be for relaxing, watching the tube. They remind me of the ‘barca loungers’ you find in chemo treatment. So, I have an aversion to a certain type of furniture now. Weird stuff still comes up post treatment. Even after leaving the world of gamma rays, masked and gloved people in gowns, chemicals that would require a hazmat crew if spilled, it hasn’t been happily ever after. My life is fairly normal, if you don’t look closely. My previous life seems like a dim memory. Like it was someone else’s life. What I do know now is that I am mortal. I can’t unknow that. And I wish like hell I could.
