Weeds

I pull a lot of weeds from my garden.  Lately I've been somewhat obsessive about seeking out and yanking them.  There are dandelions with their long roots, oxalis (clover like) with little yellow blossoms and roots that spring from underground mats; and weeds that hide in "real" plants.  I don't always recognize these right away, but when I do, I get them out fast.

If only the cancer was like that. If only I could just yank it out or slash it out with garden snippers.  The surgeon tried that and it didn't work.  The cancer was too entwined.  It had its tentacles wrapped around vital anatomical structures.   It was as if I found one of the sneaky, hidden weeds and dug it out only to kill the "real" plant as well.  So now we are left with the oncologist as constant weeder with potent herbicides as his weapons.  He watches and applies his various poisons in hopes of keeping the weed tamped down.  We know that the weeds will win but not without a tough fight. 

So why do I, who had been such a reluctant gardener before, enjoy weeding so much?  It gives me a sense of control over one thing in my life.  I can't control the most important thing (although I'm part of the team that is trying hard) but I can control those weeds.

Weeds, beware my wrath!