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When I see patients trapped in not only the hospital but also a moment in time by their diseases, I talk to them.For six hours a day, three times a week, Ivana is surrounded by IV stands, empty walls, and busy nurses that quietly yet constantly remind her of her breast cancer.
For example, I have a specific pair of underwear that is holey, worn out but surprisingly comfortable.
And despite how trivial underwear might be, when I am wearing my favorite pair, I feel as if I am on top of the world.
However, when the end inevitably arrived, I wasn’t trying to comprehend what dying was; I was trying to understand how I had been able to abandon my sick grandmother in favor of playing with friends and watching TV.
Hurt that my parents had deceived me and resentful of my own oblivion, I committed myself to preventing such blindness from resurfacing.
Cancer, as powerful and invincible as it may seem, is a mere fraction of a person’s life.
It’s easy to forget when one’s mind and body are so weak and vulnerable.
They covered the precious mahogany coffin with a brown amalgam of rocks, decomposed organisms, and weeds.
It was my turn to take the shovel, but I felt too ashamed to dutifully send her off when I had not properly said goodbye. I refused to let go of my grandmother, to accept a death I had not seen coming, to believe that an illness could not only interrupt, but steal a beloved life.
You have your ironed briefs for your businessmen, your soft cottons for the average, and hemp-based underwear for your environmental romantics.
But underwear do not only tell us about who we are, they also influence our daily interactions in ways most of us don't even understand.