"Metastatic Madness" a Poem About Living with MBC
You have to be half-mad
To live with this disease,
It seems to have a way
Of bringing you to your knees.
Cancer cells invade your body
And soon they settle in,
Uninvited and unwanted,
The beast beneath your skin.
The big bad chemo drugs, like a tsunami,
Blew it all away.
But like the worst kind of nightmare,
It will return someday.
You don’t know when, you don’t know how,
You only know it will,
So you clean out closets, throw away old papers,
And update your living will.
People say, “we’re all going to die, …each one of us.
Tomorrow, I could go out,
And get hit by a car or bus.”
If I stepped off a curb,
And got mowed down by a truck.
How quick an end that would be,
Not an agonizing one, just my luck.
Treatment means constant oversight,
By my oncologist and her team.
I accept that I must comply,
But inside I want to scream.
And all the while I pray,
It won’t ruin my life plan.
I’d like to see my grandson,
Grow up to be a man.
And see my friends and family,
For just a little longer.
Doesn’t seem like much to ask,
From the "evil cancer monger."
Tumor markers, cancer antigens,
Scans and other tests,
Rule my world like the cancer,
In my bones and both my breasts.
The truly maddening part is that,
One day it will spread too far.
How will I cope as I begin to fade,
Just like a falling star?
No one knows what lies ahead,
As we don’t have a crystal ball,
All we know is we want someone,
To catch us when we fall.