Thursday, December 8, 2011


I wrote a post on Forbes about my most recent trip to the doctor after my breast cancer diagnosis. Mostly, the piece is about facing questions like: Should I get both my boobs chopped off? These are questions one would prefer not to consider, but then there they are.

As I write in the post, I took my camera with me, mostly as a way to deal with the environment, and also as a way of manifesting a fantasy of control. The camera helped. It made me feel like I could compartmentalize everything into a box: the framed picture.
I brought my camera along. I took a photo of the building from the outside. I took a photo walking down the hall to the place where I would be the youngest person in the room. I took a photo of myself in a smock in an examination room. The camera was like a weapon, heavy in my hand, the thing between me and where I didn’t want to be.