What does cancer look like? Little Tazmanian devils whirling through my body or maybe more slowly like termits eating at wood…do termits eat slowly? I envision bands of gypsy wagons camped in one place until they’ve worn out their welcome and move on…I strangely hear Cher singing in the background…you’re probably wondering about this little intro…I feel as if suddenly no one sees me just the diagnosis of cancer. I’m having a lot of trouble with my mother…she is 72 and her mind is not as crisp as it once was and although no mention of dementia has been voiced from the doctors, the daughters notice a great resemblence to our late grandmother.  She goes from not being concerned at all to I’m going to die any minute to “we’ll just pray really hard.” I am so emotionally drained…feeling completely childish in wanting a response from her that she is not capable of giving. The worse part is I don’t even know what I want that response to be. The nurse just phoned and I’m scheduled at 8:30 in the morning. I have to stop these tears or I will not be up for tomorrow…Cher is at the part of the song that says, “everynight all the men would come around and lay their money down.” I refuse to bow down to these cancer gypsies in my body…I refuse to let them get too comfortable…I refuse to let them steal my life, my joy, my family…I am still alive, damn it…look at me not the diagnosis!!