Limeracks (pun intended)
There once was a woman from Keele
Whose boobs she did frequently feel.
One day: what a fright!
“Something’s not right!
Oh please not the cancer!” she squealed.
There once was a woman from Keele
To check both her boobs she did feel.
It’s a good job she did
‘Cos in one of them hid
A tumour so scary and real.
My left one’s now smaller than my right
Mangled and scarred, not a nice sight.
But at least it’s still there
I’ve nearly a pair,
And one day I’ll get over the fright!
Here’s one I wrote soon after diagnosis. The title is a play on metaphor and that thing we are scared of - metastasis. It’s about how seemingly distinct thngs / lives connect and communicate and also the Greek word meaning ‘self’ and ‘beyond’. You can find a link to my poetry blog in my about me. Mostly the poems are not about cancer. But sometimes cancer is not really about cancer either.
Great poem, reads like a proper poem rather than my ditties, you are very good!
Here’s my ode to the Beatles, when I’m 64.
When I get older
Losing my hair
Many years from now
Well more like in a few weeks, actually
Care of chemotherapy
If I am up til quarter to three
Throwing up my guts
Will you still need me, will you still feed me
When I’ve lost my looks?
I could be handy
Spreading the gloom
When the nights are tough
You could hold my hair back by the toilet-side
Drive me to get my bad breast fried
Doling out tablets
Shaving off hair
Who could ask for more?
Will you still need me,
Will you still feed me
When I hit cycle 4?
We could rent a bed out
In the Oldham Royal
In the A&E,
When my temp runs high.
Sharp needles take
Yet more blood.
I’m neutrophenic *sigh*.
Send me some steroids
Put in a line,
Tell me test results,
Indicate precisely what you mean to say
Yours sincerely, I’m wasting away.
Fill in the answers,
Tell me the truth,
I can’t take much more.
Will I make 40?
Will I make 50?
Will I make 64?
The Fear
In the small dark hours, lying in my bed
Wishing I was sleeping but awake instead.
Feel that niggling little pain in my upper arm,
Is the cancer back? I try to remain calm.
Have a little feel at my remaining breast,
Poke around the solid bits as if that’s a valid test.
Think I must have bruised it, with the prods I made,
Either that or the cancer’s back. I am so afraid.
I tell myself there’s nothing wrong in the light of day,
But I think that the fear will never go away.
This has been a wonderful thread.
I haven’t ever contributed a poem but have been able to congratulate so many who have put into words my thoughts and fears. Only today I bumped into a BC lady and complained that I still feel so alone because no one else understands but us! No one knows that fear of thinking it’s come back with all the strange reactions in our chest area…
Thank you to everyone who writes for all of us.
I’m 30 months down the road of recovery but often feel the need to identify with you all.
Thank you to all, especially Tors who started and contributed their innermost feelings to this thread.
Bless you all. I still need you…
Hi just found this thread. Think it’s a brilliant idea. I have read quite a few and they capture how I felt at the time I was going through treatment.
This is one of my “efforts” I wrote when I was having treatment/ had just finished it.
Looking Back…
How did I get through all that crap?
Where is SHE now? Who was I then?
The choices we made remembering them…
I think back to those dark times Wondering how I got through it “Don’t know how you did what you did” It’s a case of having to isn’t it?
There’s an inner strength lurking there, you don’t know you’ve got it You’re in that dark hole having an outer body experience Is this really happening to ME? Perhaps I will wake up soon, and find it’s a dream!
The choices you had… Were they choices at all?
I lost a year
Who is SHE staring back at me? Not the person I knew before Will SHE come back or has SHE gone? Who decides that?
“Can you live with it wondering if it’s still there? Is it? “How do you feel?” Well, I don’t know is this real?
Can any one help?
We could talk…
“Do you remember how you felt before?” One day I was fine, the next wham… “How do you cope with that?” I don’t know!
“How do you feel?” the biggest Fear, is it real?, it’s surreal.
Does a day go by when you don’t think about it?”
What if?..
“Let’s have facts, believe, do not catastrophise, do not agonise”
But what if… How do you know? You don’t so…
Ok so who’s here now? ME or SHE? Is she me? I don’t know?
I don’t want to cry anymore… I don’t want to think am I cured I want to know… “But you don’t do you?, and you can’t”
I can talk now… Re-live the fear, anxieties, pain, anger, (oh yes there’s lots of that), dread, distress, disbelief, horror, thinking about what they did to ME, how I reacted and felt SHOCK, “think it’s post traumatic, didn’t cope well with DX” Well I was on a roller coaster, I wanted it to stop but it wouldn’t It took me to places I didn’t want to go
“Can you let it go?” I’m not sure should I?
Is that why I’M here and not HER? Where is SHE?
“Are you coming to terms with it?” Is that possible? Do I have to? Should I?
Do you know what it feels like? Do you want to? Shall I try to tell you?..
I wrote this poem just after I had been diagnosed in 2007. I am coming up to my 5 years shortly in December.
One month after my 50th I had my Mammogram Wasn’t so bad I thought, until the letter dropped through the door RECALLED, a clinic appointment had been made for me (Most people who are recalled after their first time are fine) Better to be safe than sorry, don’t worry Mammogram, Ultra Sound, Core Biopsy My Head was in a spin too much to take in- Could this really be happeningto ME?
“Keep your chin up” “Be strong, stay positive, it won’t be long” “I’m sure you will be ok” RESULTS DAY Dismay - You have BC Woosh to the floor “Sure it won’t have spread, caught early good prognosis” All I think and feel is DEAD
“You were lucky, good job you went for that Mammogram” Frankly when it’s you who gives a d… still more “Chins up” “I know it’s easy for me to say! I’m sure you will be ok”
Friends, neighbours, colleagues, all have a tale to tell about BC “Don’t know how I would cope, if it happened to me” (almost said with glee), smile benignly, malignant inside They wonder why they don’t want people to know CONFIDENTIALITY
OPERATION" You’ll be fine" Don’t worry, stay strong" “have a good time!”, best place to be But this is happening to ME
Phones ring - txts are sent, “glad it went well” cards arrive, visitors too Waiting for the follow up appointment Don’t know what to do with myself
Day arrives “more chins up” “sure it won’t have spread” “too small, caught early” More whooshing to the floor
Good news tumor out, margins clear, cancer free Yippee BUT 10 lymphs out 1 positive Not too bad, could be worse, I want to curse
More “Chins up”, be positive, stay strong waiting won’t be too long
See the ONC who’s very nice but worst fear is realised Suggests Chemo. TAX and FEC What the heck- This is ME Chin up , as I hit the floor once more
Could be worse. I know There’s lots of people out there with lots of woe But doesn’t it make you think? Careful what I eat, exercise and drink Yet I have become 1 in 8 (a statistic I hate) Before all this I had a life Now all I feel is grief, anger and strife
So here’s to all my BC Buddies Get that chin up, Drag “strong”, “positive” and “don’t worry” from where you threw them last And let’s give LIFE a wonderful blast
No, I didn’t let my children down
Full stop. End of. Big frown.
Breast cancer came
I don’t know how
But it wasn’t my fault
And I know that now.
I’d let it in
To my family
Through my guard
It got past me.
My boys’ lives changing
They didn’t know it
Mummy was ill
But she couldn’t show it.
I worked very hard
Through nasty stuff
To be there for them
Just enough
So I made their tea
And I took them to school
And I told them off
And I played the fool
I made birthday cakes
And had their friends for tea
I tried my best
To be my normal me.
And I got them through.
And I’m still their mum
And some times were hard
But some times were fun
And I saw sports day
And I saw their birthdays
Starting school
And leaving nursery
And I know I didn’t
Let them down at all
I did my very best
Through a perfect storm
And i’m proud I did it
And grateful that I could
But I still stay cautious
And I still touch wood
This is where I am
At this moment, on this day
And that is all I wanted
To
Say.
These pieces of poetry are brilliant. I can relate to the first one as the commonest phrase I have heard is ‘chin up’. I’ve also been told ‘oh, you’ll be alright’. People always put on a jolly voice trying to reassure me that I probably don’t have cancer (before dx) then afterwards trying to convince me all will be well. I often wonder how they would feel in my position.
I’ve written all sorts of poems, some sad, some funny, some spiritual, but have never been able to express my thoughts and feelings about my cancer in a poem, so thank you to you lovely, brave ladies who have managed to do what I failed to do. Love to you all xx
Tors your poem so rings true with Me!
We did our very best through a perfect storm, how right you are.
My children were 18 months and 5 at the time. Looking back i wonder how I managed, but did and am here to tell the tale xxx
Hiya Naz, I wrote that last poem a month or so ago as part of my cognitive behavioural therapy. It was through talking with an excellent counsellor that I came to realise I felt responsible and guilty for getting breast cancer and that I had let my boys down, so after working through it she asked me to update my poems and feelings to lodge in my mind how I was feeling and had come to realise I hadn’t let them down. It really really helped me. Hope you’re doing ok xxx
