Week 15 – The Octopus Shoot, Photographed Week 10. I’m under the sea, on the bottom of the ocean floor. I’m resting there, face up, when the octopus comes out of his hole and wraps himself around my body placing a shell over my right breast. I know it’s there as protection. He’s protecting me…. (continued below)
The water pulses against my body with the “bang, bang, bang” rhythm of sonar waves. Sonar waves, if I’m the whale or fish, I imagine. MRI noise if I’m in my own reality. I’m actually lying in a great white metal machine. One that, if I stay still for 45 minutes, will scan my body and tell me if the cancer has spread beyond my breast and lymph nodes. This is the time before I started chemo, days when I wondered, as I still do some days now, whether the cancer has taken root elsewhere. It’s nerve-wracking to wait. Wait on test results for answers to your life. Never mind it’s a weekend or holiday. Nerve wracking to wait on the “bang, bang, bang” of the machine and so begin to imagine myself hearing what the fish and whales must hear under the sea. I meditate on the rhythm and dream of what they must hear. My body drives through the water and then finally settles upon the ocean floor where I meet my octopus. He holds me safe and I wait with him until the banging stops, then slowly rise to the surface as he dissolves into my body. I know immediately, this must be one of my Finding Beauty in Cancer Shoots.