And…
I don’t like pink
And I don’t like fluff
I think the truth
Is strong enough
Check your breasts
Reg-ul-ar-ly
To help you live
Til you’re ninety three.
Brilliant Vickie. Really made me laugh out loud!
Linda, yours was so very poignant…
Keep them coming, they are just so real…
Wx
I love this thread, really poignant stuff. I think BCC should include a couple of these in their brochures! What a talented bunch you are (including SCACO)!
I was diagnosed on 13th September 2010, so 12 months ago the cancer might have been growing but I didn’t know anything about it.
A year ago today
I didn’t know a core biopsy was used to diagnose breast cancer.
If you’d asked me to say
What a SNB was, I wouldn’t have had the answer.
A year ago I didn’t know about cancer grades and stage,
I haven’t learnt so much so quick since I was of school age.
A year ago
I thought FEC was said by Jack in Father Ted.
I didn’t know
It was a nasty chemo that would be messing with my head.
I didn’t know last year that my veins would disappear;
Every time a nurse approached they’d hide away in fear.
A year ago I didn’t know how to draw eyebrows on my face;
I didn’t need to know, my real ones were still in place.
A year ago I didn’t know how RADs could tan and burn,
I didn’t know it was something that soon I would learn.
A year ago I’d no idea how many tears I could weep.
I didn’t know what it was like to never have proper sleep.
A year ago I didn’t know that I didn’t know any of this,
A year ago I didn’t know that my ignorance was bliss.
Brill poem, loved it.
Really good Nottsgal! I liked the Father Jack ref.!
Linda you poem was lovely I could relate so well, and nottsgal so was yours. Love this thread it gives a release. Chris
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Feeling a little silly after my hospital app today so a ditty
Consider yourself told off
oh no don’t you scoff
Should have used the phone
and spoke to 24/7 helpline and moan
They would of called me in
sorted out the pains and veins
Maybe would have spent the night
they would sort it…all right
Shouldn’t have to ride it through
that’s not what to do
Take the warning use the phone
they are there to listen to the moans
Will be given more pills
to stop the reflux and all ills
Guaranteed to silence the pain
maybe just enough to keep me sane.
Such is life on this road. Chris x
I’ve loved reading everyone’s poems! Thought I’d add my own, rather than just lurking in silence. I like the humorous ones best but I’m afraid mine is rather serious!
Acceptance
It’s a gift, this life.
Shame I didn’t realise
Before this wretched compromise.
The news was not tangible.
I was invincible,
Fearless by youthful principle.
A frightful story became reality.
So ugly for a malcontent
To wake up and see their best days spent.
‘That life’s my right’, I cried.
‘Two breasts, my health, an unborn family
Not yet conceived to me.’
And life was kind, I held my child.
Then I could see
This priviledge wasn’t owed to me.
This life is beautiful, and uncertain.
Once, it was blue.
But on this knife’s edge, it takes a rosy hue.
Excellent, Jane - very eloquent. Maybe these should get published one day?! I’m still working on mine in my head ( brain rather slow and anxious at mo,!)
All the best, Sarah x
That’s a really clever poem Jane, it really cut through and jumped on the jugular. Loved it! Can tell you work with words. More please!
I don’t know how I did it,
Sitting in the bad news room
When the surgeon said it’s cancer
When my sunshine turned to doom.
I dont know how i got back home
And told my family?
I don’t know how I did it
It’s a locked down memory.
And I don’t know how I managed
time and time again,
To let them squeeze a syringe full
Of poison in my vein.
And when they couldn’t find one
And they stabbed and stabbed my arm
I don’t know how I sat there
And managed to look calm.
I dont know how I let the nurse
Inject me in the tummy
Maintaining idle chatter
Pretending things were funny.
And how did i manage
Sports day in a wig?
Crawling to my seat because
I felt so very sick?
But I think I am beginning
To figure out the reasons why
I did these things because I’m brave (!)
(plus I don’t quite want to die)
I did it cos I had to
I did it for my mum
I did it for my husband
I did it for my sons
I did it for survival
I did it valiantly
But most of all I did it
So I can keep on being me.
Great Tors
This one is titled Cut the Bullsh*t
I have a big frustration,
I like to call a spade a spade;
Call a mastectomy an amputation
But it makes some people afraid.
I call phlebotomists vampires,
cos they’re after blood from me.
They say “a sharp scratch”, they’re liars;
It hurts much more, you see.
Chemotherapy’s a strange name,
too like aromatherapy, which is pleasant.
We know it’s really poisoning:
A term most chemo staff resent.
They talk about scalp cooling,
Cooling sounds quite nice.
Scalp freezing is more like it
When your hair is covered in ice.
My psychologist for counselling
should be called a shrink.
Emotional impact equals crying,
It’s obvious you’d think.
Why say radiotherapy?
We know it’s being fried.
Using fancy terminology
Does not the truth hide.
Tamoxifen causes hot flushes
is the worst example yet,
Sounds little more than blushes
Whereas you drip with sweat.
So now I tell the oncologist
exactly what I think
She doesn’t like my terminology,
Which is why I see the shrink!
This morning this is how I feel.
Stretching onward… a year to go
Time elastic, waiting for an end
Or a beginning… to… the rest of my life
But now I sit and wait for time to pass.
A year out of a lifetime
That’s all they say they need
But the limitations imposed on this body of mine
Will drag out this year to an eternity.
June
25th July 2011
I’ve loved reading this thread so thought I’d have a go. Here’s my first offering.
I’d like to take this opportunity to tell you if I may
how my life has changed enormously since that fateful day.
The day I saw the specialist and heard that dreaded answer
“I’m sorry to have to tell you this but yes you do have cancer.”
The world stopped turning: My heart was weeping.
I couldn’t eat and I wasn’t sleeping.
Chemotherapy scares me still
and some days I feel sick and ill.
My hair’s coming out in handfuls too.
And there are times when I feel blue.
But happy, sad, sick or cross.
I’m still the same person I was.
I’m still that crazy mixed up fool.
Who loves chocolate, wine, music and school.
That doesn’t change. It never will.
Whether I’m well or feeling ill.
My friends are like anchors in a troublesome sea.
They’re always there supporting me.
They make me laugh-they let me moan.
They cheer me up when I’m alone.
The cancer doesn’t scare me now
I’m going to find a way somehow.
To get through treatment to the end.
So thank you all my lovely friends!!
Rachel x
Rachel what a lovely poem. Gypsylady I liked yours to its thought provoking. This thread is one I really enjoy although my wordsmithing is very hit and miss. Chris x
Just bumping this up as I have just reread the poems and thought they deserved an airing on the forum top ten.
It’s a gorgeous day today
I’m glad to be alive
it’s the small things that show the way
it’s the smiles that make you thrive
my grandson bless his heart
said your hairs growing that’s a start
why did it go away
I said its trying to see if its really grey
we went to the beach and then the park
showed him how to climb a tree (mind the bark)
had a picnic lunch out in the sun
he’s only 5 his life has just begun
He’s interested in everything
managed to forget about my thing
was only out for 4 hours
but it gave me back some of my powers
Chris x