Tuesday, January 17, 2006

A NIghtmare

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Some time ago I wrote these poems to express how it feels as I support my husband in his battle against cancer. Last week he had a follow up scan after six months of chemotherapy and we had to go to the doctor to get the results yesterday.


Neither of us went expecting the cancer to be all gone, or for the doctor to say he was cured, but we did go hoping that the treatment would have stopped the growth and that the doctor would give him a break from treatment.

Waiting for news like this is excrutiating and I remembered these poems that I wrote last year. Being in a waiting room is a bit like entering the world of nightmares because a few words can throw your life into turmoil

The Waiting Room

not a noun
but an adjective
describing the place
I sit waiting
waiting, hoping
that he will be
one of the
seventy percent
whose cancer responds

join the queue
welcome to the
suffering of
human kind

It is the waiting that really gets to you. How to fill in one's time during the long waiting hours? I pack a bag and take a pen, my journals, a magazine and a book but it is a bit like taking these things with me when I go to the beach. I am distracted and cannot concentrate and I end up staring at the silent walls, wondering. Sometimes I journey off into another world. Every so often the fog that surrounds me is pierced by and idea and something emerges on the page. This is from my 'Waiting Room' journal.

If The World's A Stage

If the world is a stage and I am a player
would the director of this ruddy melodrama
in which I have taken a lead role
for five long years
please find a replacement.

If the world is a stage and I am a player
would the director of this theatre troupe
acknowledge that I have done melodrama
and Greek Tragedy very well and need a turn
at some light hearted romantic comedy.

If the world is a stage and I am a player
I am officially happy to enter by the front door and
Be ushered to the best seats in the house where I could sit
Munching popcorn and slurping coke
While someone else struts their stuff

Radiant Heated Fear

Radiant heated fear
Pulsates through blooded intestines
Pressing on my sphincter
Demanding I purge
Bloated intestinal tubes

Tubes pumping, pulsating
Razor edged emotions temporarily purged
Nervously anticipating another
Spontaneous panic filled attack
Triggered by relentless, stalking, circling fear

Fear of loss, of grief
Of utter helplessness in the face of
Chronic, debilitating pain
Fear that nothing will
Appease or palliate.

Palliate or appease the pain or
the rising bitter tasting vomit
Wedged in my throat
Unrelieved by sips of water.
Desperate I consider the gate of Mount of Purgatory

Purgatory no lofty island mountain
With indifferent angel keepers guarding the door
Demanding Prudence, Temperance, Fortitude, and Justice
Bowing my head in penitence
Will not change our fate.

Fated to stand on earth
Fated to bear witness to
a multitude of injustices meted out
By the hands of capricious
Mother Nature

Posive energy from everyone here supported me as I walked into the waiting room, as did the call of raven as I approached the hospital.

The doctor said there was no growth and we would just wait and see and do another scan in three months.

I slid back down the tree from the Land of Dreams to Silky's place, grateful and slept peacefully, in a dreamless state, on her bed.

6 Comments:

At 4:14 PM, Blogger Anita Marie Moscoso said...

I guess you know why I can say you must have written this for us both
and how much I appreciate it.

Love To You
Anita Marie

 
At 4:48 PM, Blogger Megan Warren said...

Waiting is such a difficult pastime, thank you for expressing such a difficult time so beautifully and sharing it with us.

 
At 2:03 AM, Blogger Imogen Crest said...

Waiting is awful. So many would share your views on that subject. How powerful, this is, this writing. How brilliant.

 
At 7:59 AM, Blogger Vi Jones said...

Waiting, I think, is the worst part. Not knowing is a form of cruelty bestowed upon us by the Fates. Your poems graphically describe the moments that drag on into hours. Know though that I/we are waiting with you, and praying, each to our own Higher Power, for the best results.

Luv, Vi

 
At 3:59 AM, Blogger Lois said...

Every three months
The times in between
Will always be
the most precious
to have and to hold
each other for those
special weeks.
As the days pass
being together
becomes well known in
measured time.
You are much more
aware of togetherness.

Love Lois 20.1.06

 
At 6:22 PM, Blogger le Enchanteur said...

Thanks everyone. It has been quite a week and the stress did take a toll on me. I have been lying low and taking it quietly and only now feel like I am ready to step up my pace again.

You are so right Lois. This time we have is very precious. The cancer is not gone but the growth has been arrested and this is the main thing. Darryl's spirits have lifted and I am sure that he will do better for quite awhile.

 

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