Ten minutes in, or maybe only five,
They start to drift off,
Just want to be done with it.
Sometimes they even say,
“Let’s talk about something else” or
“Let’s change the subject”
Every so often they go as far as to say, “This is depressing.”
Being done with it is something I would love to do.
I’d love to tell the inner me to forget about it.
But that’s not possible.
It’s not mind over matter when that matter is making you sick, as are the treatments you need to fight it.
Metastatic cancer is background music, but it is a cacophonous roar.
I put it in its place,
But it has a place.
And the fact that it even has a place,
Well, that is just the way it is.
I try to keep its place as small as possible.
For as long as I can.
But I don’t have the luxury of changing the subject or forgetting about it for a while.
Like a greedy child metastatic cancer demands attention.
I tell it to wait,
Give me a bit of a break.
First I demand it.
Then, worried, I ask again contritely.
Then I downright beg.
Please, just give me some more time.
But I don’t believe there is anyone who hears me.
I don’t believe there is a god listening,
And I don’t believe cancer gives a damn about it all.
And so the plea evaporates as quickly as it came,
The tree in the forest with no one to hear.
I can only do my research, try to make the best decisions.
But in the end,
These cells will do what they will,
As they have,
Without respectful regard to all of my attempts to banish them.
That’s not how it works:
You can’t wish them away,
Hope them away,
Love and light them away.
Cellular biology is King.
But paired to that fateful ruler
I shall be an argumentative, rebellious Queen.
Wring the most out of each day.
Find those bits of joy and beauty,
Make sure that what I’m doing isn’t waiting around to die.
For truly, that would be a waste.
And in those conversations now I am grateful there can be other subjects to move on to,
Share the lives of my friends and support them,
Even if I am simultaneously pretending I can’t hear the roar.
The greedy child still tugs at my hem,
Will not be denied.
I needn’t let that noise drown us out,
And it won’t silence me just yet.