My body felt needy, tight, straining, and restless. I didn’t know what to do with myself. All my life, my body had been a tool, frequently a disappointment, but not ever a part of me. First, because of the rigors of my training, it was a means to an end. Then during surgery and treatment, it felt like a failure. But suddenly, in this room, with this man, it was my mind that felt disconnected from the rest of me. My body felt like it was the victim, on the side of right; my mind was the failure, the disappointment, the mess.
