Musings by The Poet Loriet
Tumor and Biopsy
These are the only two words I hear.
My doctor chatters pleasantly.
I try to nod and smile
at all the appropriate times.
She looks calm.
"Very small."
"Catching it early."
"Nothing to worry about."
"Just to be on the safe side."
"If they have to take it out,"
my family says,
"you can LIVE without it.
It could be Soooo much worse!"
I feel like I'm pregnant
for the first time,
listening to everyone else's
labor and delivery
war stories.
"You are so LUCKY!"
That doesn't change the fact
that this is happening to
MY BODY!
Fear of the unknown lingers.
My family and friends
seem intent
on avoiding the issue.
We won't say it out loud,
so it won't be real...
and when I do talk about it,
I feel as if
I'm committing a social faux pas.
No use worrying about it...
really,
I'm not thinking about it at all
until I see the specialist--
Yet, as I comb my long hair,
I wonder what I'd do
if it all fell out,
how I'd look in a wig,
what hats and scarves
I'd wear.
I look in the mirror
and imagine the scar
or how I'd hide the
radiation burns.
As the kids play around me,
rambunctious as hell,
I wonder how I'd hide the nausea
and throwing up...
or as I make love
to my husband,
how I'd be optimistic
and strong for him.
I'm trying to enjoy my life more,
appreciate the small things
because of the possibility
of the "C" word...
But, I'm not thinking about it,
really...
not at all!
So, please forgive me
when I ask you
if you'd like your eggs
biopsied
or scrambled.
Lori Beal
My doctor chatters pleasantly.
I try to nod and smile
at all the appropriate times.
She looks calm.
"Very small."
"Catching it early."
"Nothing to worry about."
"Just to be on the safe side."
"If they have to take it out,"
my family says,
"you can LIVE without it.
It could be Soooo much worse!"
I feel like I'm pregnant
for the first time,
listening to everyone else's
labor and delivery
war stories.
"You are so LUCKY!"
That doesn't change the fact
that this is happening to
MY BODY!
Fear of the unknown lingers.
My family and friends
seem intent
on avoiding the issue.
We won't say it out loud,
so it won't be real...
and when I do talk about it,
I feel as if
I'm committing a social faux pas.
No use worrying about it...
really,
I'm not thinking about it at all
until I see the specialist--
Yet, as I comb my long hair,
I wonder what I'd do
if it all fell out,
how I'd look in a wig,
what hats and scarves
I'd wear.
I look in the mirror
and imagine the scar
or how I'd hide the
radiation burns.
As the kids play around me,
rambunctious as hell,
I wonder how I'd hide the nausea
and throwing up...
or as I make love
to my husband,
how I'd be optimistic
and strong for him.
I'm trying to enjoy my life more,
appreciate the small things
because of the possibility
of the "C" word...
But, I'm not thinking about it,
really...
not at all!
So, please forgive me
when I ask you
if you'd like your eggs
biopsied
or scrambled.
Lori Beal
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Tumor and Biopsy
Tumor and Biopsy