Nonfiction | February 01, 2018
Of Time and the Theatre
About eighteen months ago, six months after my wife had been diagnosed with stage 2B breast cancer, I was diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer with metastasis to the liver. Luckily—I want to say “miraculously”—the metastasis consisted only of two small lesions located in a resectable portion of my liver. I was given a decent chance for a cure. They actually used those words, “decent” and “cure,” though medically speaking one is not cured until ten years have passed without recurrence. My liver surgeon told me that five years ago I would have been given six months to live.
This essay is not currently available online.
If you are a student, faculty member, or staff member at an institution whose library subscribes to Project Muse, you can read this piece and the full archives of the Missouri Review for free. Check this list to see if your library is a Project Muse subscriber.
Want to read more?Subscribe Today
SEE THE ISSUE
Jan 07 2022
Cover Up I did not begin my time in Jerusalem with the desire to be dangerous. I arrived in that most intoxicating, infuriating, enervating, derelict, and sad of cities with
Jan 06 2022
Of Sound Mind and Memory
Of Sound Mind and MemoryOn Wills and Language and Lawyers and Loveby Judith Claire Mitchell PreambleI, _____________, being of sound and disposing mind and memory, hereby declare this to be
Jan 05 2022
Terrorist DocUsing a scalpel, I made incision across the length of the baseball-sized mass in the patient’s upper eyelid. Within seconds, like walking in a dense fog, I was struggling