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"Doctor Libowitz would like you to make an appointment and come in to discuss your chest x-ray." ~A Message left on my answering machine.
"The radiologist reports
that he has seen a suspicious shadow
in your lungs.
The difference in density
within the lung's tissue
shows up as shadows
on the x-ray film."
Am I still listening?
I can't be sure.
Not absolutely.
My mind fingers through your sentences
plucking out and examining
a word here, or there,
like some produce shopping chef
some tomato connoisseur
assessing firmness, ripeness,
weight, texture, and suitability of purpose.
Which words will I retain?
There is a SHADOW?
A SHADOW grows inside of ME?
"But doctor I feel fine,"
I say.
"I don't feel a thing in there,"
I say tapping my chest.
"Has anyone ever felt a shadow?"
you reply.
Am I afraid of my own shadow?
Yes. Without the shadow of a doubt.
"It could be nothing,"
you say,
not wanting me to overreact.
"It is just something we need
to check out, you know,
to rule it out."
You mean, I need another test
to see if something
must be "ruled in."
What you do not ask is this:
‘If it is cancer
would I want to know?'
Would I want to know?
Yes, I suppose I would.
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