After a difficult diagnosis, I now live in the intertidal space between fear and 'seize the day'

This is a First Person column by Trish Matson, who lives in B.C.’s southern Gulf Islands. For more information about CBC’s First Person stories, see the FAQ.

I was at the oceanside, the low tide exposing rugged, barnacle-encrusted sandstone and damp seaweed. I sat on a log and tried to calm my breath. 

“Just” (inhale) “be” (exhale). 

I quietly described to myself what I could see — the expanse of water, the rocks, driftwood, tree branches above, a distant sailboat — and what I could hear (birds, the buzz of a wasp or fly, a boat’s motor, voices of people at the beach’s end). Tricks advised by my therapist. But I could

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