![]() Bloody harbingers of a mounting struggle taking place inside of me. A scree of oozing nicks, thick scabs, and fresh scars soon marred my legs as if they had been beaten with rose thistles. ![]() ![]() ![]() I itched while dancing with friends on the beer-slicked floors of basement taprooms. I itched under the big wooden desk of my library carrel. I itched during my part-time job at the campus film lab. Without realizing what I was doing, my hand began meandering down my legs, my nails raking my jeans in search of relief, before burrowing under the hem to sink directly into flesh. I tried to resist scratching, but the itch was relentless, spreading across the surface of my skin like a thousand invisible mosquito bites. A maddening, claw-at-your-skin, keep-you-up-at-night itch that surfaced during my senior year of college, first on the tops of my feet and then moving up my calves and thighs. ![]() Not a metaphorical itch to travel the world or some quarter-life crisis, but a literal, physical itch. Read an excerpt below, and don't miss correspondent Jim Axelrod's interview with Suleika Jaouad on "CBS Sunday Morning" February 14! That journey became the basis of her new book, "Between Two Kingdoms: A Memoir of a Life Interrupted" (Random House). Suleika Jaouad documented her nearly-four-year endurance of chemotherapy in her New York Times column, "Life, Interrupted," which she followed with a 15,000-mile road trip to meet 22 of the many strangers who had written to her with stories of their own. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |