the cancer cycle

The bulk of this was written when DH was going through the brunt of his cancer treatments before his transplant.  It was a pretty bleak time for both of us and I had to write to keep myself sane and get the darkness out as it was in danger of eating me alive, much like DH‘s cancer.  Pretty bleak writing but should show where I came from and highlight where I and DH are now! 

Patient

Life has always been a bumpy road.
Around the bend it just gets bumpier.
I try to avoid being afraid of the future,
But the future seems to be afraid of me. 

Despite the strong foundations I’ve laid
Everything is crumbling around me.
Once towering walls are failing
Once proud ideals have disappeared.

It’s hard to remain optimistic
When my own body betrays me.
Fighting back and kicking me when I’m down.
I can feel it growing inside me,
Eating me away, killing me.
To fight it is to kill more of me
One piece at a time.
To destroy it could kill me
But it will kill me if I don’t try.
What choice do I have?

Despite the strong foundations I’ve laid
Everything is crumbling around me.
Once towering walls are failing
Once proud ideals have disappeared.

I can choose to exist
Or I can choose to live.
Life is not a sentence
It is a gift I am grateful for.

Despite the strong foundations I’ve laid
Everything is crumbling around me.
Once towering walls are failing
Once proud ideals have disappeared.

Dying to Live

Things began really going south around three years ago.
Even simple tasks became increasingly difficult for him to do.
In October our collective worlds stopped with the news.
When the diagnosis came he had a choice to make:
Whether to live dying or to die living.

But that is a choice we all make.
We are all living while we die.
We are all dying while we live. 

Three Good Years

Despite all of the advances we have made it all boils down to:

  • CUT IT!
  • BURN IT!
  • POISON IT!

So far two of three have been done, we are waiting for the third.
They poke and prod and scan,
Testing him to see if he’ll live;
Testing him to see if it’s worth their while.
Doctors, surgeons, lab assistants, technicians –
His life is in a binder to them.
Just another case to assess, another leaf for the 3-ring.
They said we’d have two or three good years…

THIS IS GOOD?!?

Encephalopathy

Tired.
Confused.
Why can’t I hold anything?
Why doesn’t anyone understand me?
I’m so tired.
My hands don’t work right.
I’m shaking and I’m cold.
Is it day or is it night?
Why doesn’t anybody understand me?
So fucking tired.
What time is it?
Confused.
So so tired!
Hands not working
Why doesn’t anyone understand me?

I’m exhausted.
Shaking, cold.
Why can’t I be understood?
Where am I?
What time is it?
I DON’T UNDERSTAND?
WHY DOESN’T ANYBODY UNDERSTAND ME! 

Caregiver

Hollow.
Cold.
Alienated.
Empty.
Tired.

I don’t want to be here.
I don’t want to be doing this.
Why does it have to be this way?
What happened to my life?
Am I horrible for feeling this way?

Hollow.
Cold.
Alienated.
Empty.
Tired.
Frustrated.
Afraid.

Ablation

They continue to grow inside me,
Eating me away as they spread.
We are given two choices to remove them,
Do we burn or do we poison?
What will cause the least damage to me?

“Fire!  I’ll take you to burn!
You’re going to burn!”

He chooses to cook them first,
Needle reaching into me,
Searing them inside me,
Searing pain in me around them. 

“Good but not good enough.
We’ll try poison now.”
Needle reaching into me,
Flooding me with death, and illness
Killing them not so softly.

“Okay but not good enough…
Let’s zap the son of a bitch again.”
Needle reaching into me,
Searing them inside me,
Searing me around them. 

“Congratulations, they’re gone for now!
Let me know when they come back,
Because they WILL come back
And we’ll do this again and again and again” 

Fuck.

Caregiver

Hollow.
Cold.
Alienated.
Empty.
Tired.

Fuck.

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