I am wearied by this beast ... and yet it has beauty. I feel it rising, surfacing. Maybe my skin is below it now? My memory is altered by the years that have passed. Perceptions are hybridizing: the warning, the pain, the monster and me. Day and night, night and day, we are together. We are becoming. We are becoming one. What is left but an invitation?
Not only, but also:
As a woman with physical disabilities I feel frustrated by the way that I am viewed within the medical community. Women have often endured unjust invalidation from the medical community. Hysteric, psychosomatic or simply human.
Postscript: The Latin word "monere" speaks of a warning. It is also the root for the word monster.