I am finishing a physical book this week, The Witch’s Heart by Genevieve Gornichec. I’m crawling through the last bit of treatments, and I’m trying to read physical books like a person with stamina and strength.
I don’t have much strength, but I will have the stamina to get through these treatments.
The witch heroine of the book is the mythological norse witch that foresaw ragnarok, drawing the painful attention of Odin.
Ragnarok, the twilight of the gods and the end of the nine worlds—she saw it and Odin desperately wanted what she knew.
Odin wanted to control it. And the witch knew fates were not to be bargained with. What would they have done differently.
I am in the twilight of the last cancer treatment, the 2nd dose of treatment for my thyroid cancer. Because I KNOW I am near done I have the room to contemplate. In the storm of the next hard thing and the next I allowed myself no room for what-if or if-only
My ragnarok. That diagnosis and all that came after was fated, right?Odin tortured that witch future seer to find out and control it. The witch also tried to wiggle through the uncertainties
The gaps in fate
To save what she loved most

I look around, thinking what other paths were not taken. What if I had made the inevitable choice, but earlier? Would I have avoided pain?

With the extreme treatments and surgeries ending on March 28, I feel like I am walking out of a crowded fate and into freedom

Odin, king of the gods of Asgard, was jealous to get as much of that freedom as he could. HE lost an eye for it.

Like a memory of a distant sound, I can hear a time when I called that kind of freedom “Tuesday”

It was that ordinary.

What will I do now, without being squeezed between medical tortures? How long will I remember to cherish how good ordinary feels?

I don’t want to squander it.