It was when they said, 'Chemotherapy',
quite casually followed by 'Radiotherapy', and
'Targeted Radiotherapy'
as if each were the greatest thing since sliced bread…
REALLY??
The wobbling began,
in unknown depths of my heart,
although it hurt even more...
REALLY??
Reassurances flowed freely.
'Different these days'
'Many don't lose their hair,
or feel constantly nauseous,
or actually vomit/have diaorrhea.'
'Chemo brain fog? Rarely happens'
'Creativity damage/destruction?
Maybe some.
Not much.
I've never seen it be a problem.'
Truth was…
in the middle of the night,
all alone and in pain,
I would be the one suffering.
'They' would sleep.
I would hold the brush full of gorgeous silken and silver hair.
I would search my brain for that elusive—
uhrr… something.
I know there was something…
errmm… you know.
THAT one.
REALLY??
I think so.
And the xyz monster would be free to roam.
And I would have no way back
to the only normality I know.
Or want.
Ever.
And the wobbling steadied.
Jelly turned to stone.
Not the heart.
And soul.
And 'me'.
NOW
That one is lovingly enfolded
in a protective cask of love-stone.
Strong.
Invincible.
REALLY!
Author Bio
Christine is Australian - writer, farmer, wife, mother, grandmother - in her 70’s -- living on their retirement farm. Her words and works took on new meaning with the recently confirmed diagnosis of Lung cancer. She faces the uninvited invader alone with her formidable strength of character and unique sense of humour.
She writes: Short stories, Flash-fiction in almost every genre, encompassing humour to deepest sadness.
Memoirs - growing up in 1950's Australia; farming; treasured collections.
Children's Stories – for ALL age readers; excellent ‘read-aloud’ stories by all loving care-givers.
Christine’s website: http://www.cdcraftee.com
Google: cdcraftee to find free reading of almost everything she’s written!
Comments