Glacial Pace

I’d like to believe that my disease is progressing at a glacial pace, like Hubbard Glacier, Alaska. The damaged DNA drifts silently through the lymphatic system, depositing debris in nodes, seeping into blood vessels, landing on the southern shore of the liver and the northern reaches of the brain. At times, a solid shard of tumor drops into the bone with a heavy thud.

I don’t consider a glacier by itself beautiful - it is only ice, immense and cold. What draws the eye are the jagged peaks rising around it. The glacier’s true beauty lies in the mind, in its vastness and its power to outlast us. Much like my own physical self, destined to dissolve into memory.