I am a 30 year old Brooklynite who was diagnosed with Stage III Melanoma in February 2008. Today, I was meditating through my second session of chemotherapy, and came to the conclusion I should be blogging all of this experience. I have been sending emails out to my close friends, but it all forms a coherent narrative. A Melanarrative, so to speak. It all came to me. Meditating to Brian Eno’s Music For Airports.
There have been a lot of changes in the last four months. A lot. Like meditating. I only started that two weeks ago. At the insistence of of the Psychiatrist when he proscribed me Klonopin. He told me how aggressive he was about treating things with drugs, but three times told me I needed to learn how to meditate.
I have been writing emails to my friends and family from the beginning. I will continue to do that, and post much of that here. I will also return to those emails and post them here as necessary.
I am a creative person who does things kind of like this blog for a practice, but I feel strongly that this remain an anonymous endeavor. Some of you reading this know who I am. I put my trust in you to keep it anonymous. Not because I am ashamed of what has happened to me. But because I do not want that to become *who* I am. It is something I have. And experience I have had. But not *who* I am.
I am writing this because it is a way for me to work out my thoughts and feelings. And maybe someone else out there will find it useful, or interesting, or similar, or different from their experience.
I am writing this because I have already forgotten what it felt like the day before I found out my diagnosis. I am writing this to preserve my own memory.