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The threat of breast cancer looms over me, even the pain is a threat.
I am a fighter,
I was suffering,
I could not sleep,
I could not breathe.
My breast
Was bleeding,
My skin was sick,
It was itching and swollen
My tears were wetting my shirt.
I have seen many doctors,
I have taken lots of medicine,
I have failed medical tests
And seen different machines.
I have been cut,
I have been saved,
My body is not the same
but I am still alive.
Another day alive,
Carrying this
Under my skin,
My breast is not alright.
I try not to look,
Every day, the
Pain is a reminder
Something is happening.
I caress it,
Keep it clean
And dry so
It remains the same.
I am sad and tensed,
This part of my body
Looks different
And feels strange.
I look at my reflection
On the mirror
And tell myself:
“You will heal.”
I know the healing power of art. I am a psychologist and work with children with autism. I am sentive to human pain. I experienced some sort of breast pain, not cancer but been tensed for a while. I had a relative who passed away due to this condition.
This post was written and submitted by Adriana Rocha. The article reflects the views of Rocha and not of CURE®. This is also not supposed to be intended as medical advice.
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