Slice of life

At my local library1 is a tree slab on display. You’ve seen them before. A cross-section of a local felled tree two or three hundred years old. The passage of time marked by growth rings; the stressful years hidden, invisible until the very end.2.

tree slab

I took this picture around four months after my most recent discharge from the hospital3. At the time, I did not know if my treatment was effective—if I had achieved remission (I had)—but as I stared at the tree, I felt a connection. A metaphor for my current state. This tree was once living, breathing, standing tall all while carrying the scars of challenging times within.

The Scar I Carry

My cancer and subsequent treatments have left invisible scars on my life as well4. Many of my physical symptoms have subsided. My appearance has been restored with another year of growth. But on the inside—after a brief moment of exposure—are all the signs of distress and turmoil.

During my chemo treatment, my nails developed a “fracture point”: a scar marking when all my cells turned over, most pronounced on my thumbs. Here I compare notes with the tree. This scar here—what did you see? Was it hard? What lessons did you learn?

If you can move forward, so can I.

tree slab with thumb


Author’s Note

Originally, I hadn’t intended to publish anything online about my cancer, but I was inspired by https://xkcd.com/1141/ to share parts of my survivor’s journey. Besides, I think about cancer a lot, and this site is called “James’s Thoughts”…

As of June 2024, I’m alive and well; check out https://status.jsrowe.com to see what I’m up to.

Significant revisions

tags: 2024, cancer, personal

  • Jun 19th, 2024 Originally published on https://www.jsrowe.com with uid 4F750A7F-4294-4BBE-9C9E-341BB0DEDCAB
  • Jun 13th, 2024 Came back to this placeholder and completed draft
  • May 13th, 2024 commit this draft idea for later

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