Laura writes…

I tell all my colleagues that I’ll be back soon
As I slip from the office one spring afternoon
To a wonky blue chair in a brightly lit room
Where I’m hit by a barrage of words spelling doom

The shock takes my breath in the brutal surprise
I taste salt from the tears as they stream from my eyes
The stench of despair swirls around in the air
My life now ablaze and the help not yet there

Cracks form so fast in the best laid of plans
Replaced by an onslaught of blood tests and scans
There’s strain on the faces of family who wait
For doctors and nurses to tell me my fate

My outlook swings daily from hope to despair
I’m angry, it’s warfare and none of it fair
I ponder on life as if viewed from afar
By the graveyard of masks on the seat in my car

It’s appointments, logistics and planning galore
And just when it’s sorted they hit you with more
I’m the ball in a new fast-paced game of ping pong
Independence important – how quickly it’s gone

Then the punch of the news that my scan (PET-CT)
Was lit up all over – a faux Christmas tree
Hugs from my loved ones, the medics now gone
They transfer their strength to me, willing me on

And then I hear beeping, the chemo machines
Plastic gloves popping, the smell of saline
It’s your friend, it’s poison, it’s pure liquid gold
I must put blind trust in the things that I’m told

My touch is assaulted by tingling skin
My taste is then smothered by metal within
My hair feels so soft as it falls from my head
I reach out to brush but feel nothing instead

Chemo is living a life in the trenches
Endurance is chief as the treatment’s relentless
At best time will heal all the scars that I’ll bear
At worst my comrades will have poppies to wear

Tears pool as I grieve my old naivete
To think that my future was all guaranteed!
I’m learning to live in the uncertainty
Accept the imponderables – just let it be

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