"'Are you in remission?'
I cannot answer. My throat is closed, the words caught somewhere deep within. I can't even answer the question in writing, instead starting the sentence and then deleting, starting another one, phrased slightly differently and delete that, too, before I even get to the part about the R-word. Just writing it in that first sentence of this post makes me feel all antsy and uncomfortable. Those nine letters positively pulse off the page, making me feel as if I am tempting fate, calling attention to myself, inviting disaster. Because we all know that the flares are out there, don't we? Know (sort of) that all that's needed for one to remember that it has a life -- your life -- to take over is saying that you're doing okay and the next morning, you won't be."
Pop over to MyRACentral to read the rest.