‘Will it hurt?’ I enquire nervously of Greg. ‘No,’ he says in confident, assured tones. A pause, while he grins, ‘It’s never hurt me.’ In fact they don’t hurt; it’s more like an odd, pinching sensation. Of course, the knowledge that this pinching sensation is due to thread being pulled through your flesh adds a certain frisson to the experience. One thing I notice over the week is that apart from Greg, none of the hospital staff ever mentions the word cancer to me. It feels odd to have the reason for my being in hospital cloaked in such silence; as if it is hidden, unspeakable. I’m feeling buoyant and saved—I don’t feel a need to talk about cancer to the staff—but I wonder what it’s like for those who are struggling with their feelings and fears. At last, it’s coming-home day. Leaving hospital is as exciting as stepping into a new life. I’m thrilling with the anticipation of an ordinary shower and sheets that aren’t lined with rubber. And putting some distance between me and the all-pervasive scent of hospital disinfectant.
What do You think about Eating The Underworld (2001)?
