Don’t ask me why I thought this would work.
It seemed as plausible as any of the other “cures” I’ve tried since the diagnosis.
The Northern Lights. Aurora Borealis. Electrically charged solar storm particles dancing to the rhythm of Earth’s magnetic poles. If that’s not tangible magic to believe in, I don’t know what is.
I book a flight to Greenland with Canadian North airlines, and receive a response double-checking my intentions to fly into Nuuk. Who flies to Nuuk? Then I continue down the hopeful online wormhole which has convinced my desperate ass of the curative powers of the magnetized solar particles contained in the aforementioned natural light display.
***
After shelling out for the assistance of a legitimate Sherpa, I stand atop Mount Gunnbjörn, highest peak in the Arctic. Nothing between my cancerous ass and a billion-to-one-shot cure. And when I say my cancerous ass, it’s not hyperbole. I really do have ass cancer.
Colon Cancer to be exact.
As ridiculous as it sounds, keep in mind, I am a terminal case. Otherwise, why would I be standing at the top of this frozen rock, ready to haul my pants down and moon the Aurora Borealis, and the improbably named Shep the Sherpa, if he decides to ignore my request to look in the opposite direction.
The website I consulted, Incurable Diseases Improbable Cures Dot Org, says that, “once a colon cancer sufferer reaches the peak of Mount Gunnbjörn they should inhale rapidly 10 times then remove their pants and undergarments.” This is step one.
Step two requires, “the sufferer to grab their ankles, providing maximum exposure of the anus to the healing properties of the greenish, electrically-charged solar particles.” This, they assure, has worked for countless others.
***
Bent at the waist, facing my feet, all I can think about is that this gives new meaning to, “freezing my ass off.” I am supposed to remain in this position for 10 minutes for maximum benefit, or two, five-minute intervals if I become lightheaded.
If you were to ask me if I really believe this will save my ass, I’d answer honestly, no. But I definitely don’t want to sit on my rump, wasting away, getting weaker.
In an bare-butt-up-to-the-cold-starry-night way, I already feel cured. Of shame. Fear. I did this. I didn’t wait around to die.
I understand this is a losing game, but I tried everything. In the end all we have are attempts…to live full lives with few regrets. I have that now, and four numb cheeks.
