I suppose all of us are mortal. When I was 12 I began getting sick, to the point where I could not eat without vomiting. No, it’s not the most exciting thing to discuss, but that’s me. My doctor swore I had Leukemia (because my iron was so damn low), and they wanted to admit me to the hospital immediately. I obviously didn’t have Leukemia because that was 22 years ago, and I’m still here. I also didn’t have health insurance (Dad’s self employed and mom was a stay-at-homer).

Needless to say I went home that day, and my mother went straight to college to get a degree. My sister was 6 at the time, so it wasn’t like there were little ones at home anymore. They diagnosed me with Crohn’s Disease later that fall and thus began my life with illness. Medical technology and age has been good to me over the years, but I truly am defined by illness.

I never really even understood the mortality of my parents until my father had a heart attack. I cried and cried and cried. I was already living in Arizona at the time and my perspective on time is a pendulum. I always either, A) believe I have all the time in the world to be with him, or B) want to drive back "home" now and stay put.

In the last week both my father and I have had chunks of skin and flesh cut from our bodies. Dad had some sort of carcinogen cut from his forehead, and I joke with my mother than he probably looks like Harry Potter now. I’ve had moles since I’ve been in AZ (and no it has nothing to do with the sun, since I don’t get that much), and I was finally referred to a dermatologist. Today she cut the largest mole from the area that I can only refer to as my "boob". Yes, I am not skinny. Yes, I’ve got man boobs. Deal with it. Dad does too. So this lady’s there cutting away at a large mole (think pencil eraser diameter and go a little larger) from my boob while we’re making small talk. Don’t quite remember the discussion. But it reminded me of James Morrow’s book Towing Jehovah when God fell into the ocean, dead. They towed his body to the Arctic so he didn’t decompose, but along the way the people got hungry, so they cut large chunks from his chest (talk about communion!). This is how I felt (no I don’t have a God complex…. atleast I doubt it) today in the doctor’s office.

I just wish I had a camera with me!