Breast Cancer

To the many, among my friends, who can recognize themselves

in some of these lines

Cells

slowly losing control,

lurking in there for years

then suddenly (so it seems)

a lump

felt in the shower,

a few trips to the doctor

And nothing

shall ever be the same

Bitter sun light, relentlessly

pouring all over things

leaves her no place to hide.

How can those birds still sing

as if nothing was happening?

Strangers on the street,

entrapped

in individual glass spheres

roll around in a rhythmical,

concerted madness.

The radio broadcasts

the same songs, absurd

as commercial breaks in the account

of events, on September Eleven.

“This can’t be happening”

She thinks, “There must be a mistake”

and then: “How, in the name of God,

shall I tell my mother?”

Breast cancer: two words

tangle up in a knot

that tightens her throat, when she must

tell someone else, all over again,

from the start.

In situ, or invasive?

Diagnosis, grade, stage, prognosis, tumor size,

sentinel lymph node, recurrence,

....metastasis…

Quickly she learns the meaning

of such ominous words,

and the crucial numbers

that split hope from despair

Out of surgery

a brief sigh of relief: it’s all out!

What’s next? Radiotherapy, chemo,

or was this enough, and perhaps she’s allowed

to go on with her life?

Her friends feel free

to talk about the weather, no longer watch

intently when they meet,

to silently assess how she’s doing.

Life slowly

goes back to normal,

or so it seems.

To mention her cancer

Is no longer appropriate.

But she is not done with her processing,

and must seek out her answers

alone.

(II)

How can you smile,

Look at me that way?

Do you really think I’ll believe

that nothing has changed,

you want me, just the same as before?

How can you stand the emptiness

Where softness once filled

Your hands, enticed your lips

To awaken us both with lust?

Hold me

as you hold your children.

Can you find enough strength

To let me cry

Until there are no tears

Left, and I can rest?

Forget the lies we told

Each other, all this time:

You mourn my loss as yours,

Ashamed and helpless.

Let’s place before us

Out in the open,

Your anger, mine:

You miss the pretty girl you married,

so healthy, full of life..

Release those thoughts, shed them

like a loaded backpack

you dump on the ground in a cloud of dust

at the end of long mountain trek.

Show me your greatest fear, the one

you try your best to hide:

That I’ll become a memory

destined to fade with time,

and with me the life we built

over so many years…

Say it, scream it out loud:

“I’m afraid you might die!”

Now take my hand, and walk with me:

I can’t tell you how long I'll be here

but I have chosen to fight.

(III)

Hope is a meaningless word

to a child left behind

when she wakes up at night

calling her mother’s name…

This single thought

Became my ball and chain

When it would have seemed so much easier

To let go, put an end to the pain:

We all must face death

At one time or another, so why

Not now?

Not now, not yet

Not until this next Spring..

Not until she’ll be able

to go to bed by herself,

and get up without help

in the morning.

Not until he’ll no longer

ask for a hug at night,

so that Mommy may spend

a little time with him.

Not until graduation.

Not until they are

independent adults.

Not until

they have kids of their own.

Not until those kids too

are grown…

(IV)

I didn’t just choose to survive,

I vowed to thrive!

I shed my shame, set aside my horror,

silenced all fears, welcome

your love.

I rejoice in who I am, cherish what I do,

marvel at the strength

I never knew was there.

A new Spring I’d feared

I would not get to see

is here

in a triumph of color.

Birds sing in joyous tribute

to blossoming life.

Strangers on the street return my smile

for no apparent reason.

Love, kindness, support

are the only memories

of my darkest times,

just the same as the joy

at my children’s first cry

is all I recall of my labor.

 Lucia A. Pirisi-Creek, August, 2004