Tomorrow, I'm taking my sister to have a bone scan. Over 25 years ago, she was there with me when I had a bone scan. I was living in the east Kootenays, with my parents, and flew alone to Vancouver (where my sister was living) to see a pain specialist and have the scan. At the time, they had no idea what was causing my pain and had run out of tests they could do at the local hospital. I was 17 and my sister was 24, and she helped me face this uncertainty. They weren't looking for cancer, but I was scared and unsure and she was there for me. I told my sister that I would like to be able to return the favour and accompany her. This is one small thing I can do.
Twenty five years ago, my glowing bones showed nothing: the scan was normal. Tomorrow, after the radioactive tracer sinks into my sister's bones, I pray that her scan will echo mine. In this nothingness, I hope we will find common ground.
I had a very hard time creating an image that captured my hope and longing as well as my feelings of fierce protectiveness of my sister. This bone scan is one small part of her journey, but in this I offer up my support to her, my hope for her, my love for her. I will stand beside her and do whatever I can to help her through. There is so much more that she will face: chemotherapy, radiation and the suffering they bring. This image is my talisman.
[click to enlarge image]