And then we were kissing. My hand let go of the oxygen cart and I reached up for his neck, and he pulled me up by my waist onto mytiptoes. As his parted lips met mine, I started to feel breathless in a new and fascinating way. The space around us evaporated, and for aweird moment I really liked my body; this cancer-ruined thing I’d spent years dragging around suddenly seemed worth the struggle, worththe chest tubes and the PICC lines and the ceaseless bodily betrayal of the tumors.