Panning for Poetry ~ Part II

The poems that follow have all been written by talented members of the Building Resilience in Breast Cancer Facebook private psychoeducational group.

For this feature, our members were asked to share their own poetry, the feelings and consequent words that flowed and helped them through the storm of their breast cancer diagnosis.

“

Boob job

I've always fancied a boob job I do have to confess
And now I'm getting one free on the NHS
Do I get the tear shaped or do I get the rounds
I don't really care as long as they make nice little mounds.

So many ones to choose from in the nurse's little folders
And as I'm going smaller I can throw out my boulder holders
It'll be a shame to see them gone but a relief all the same
And hopefully I'll like my new boobs and might even give them a name.

A bilateral mx isn't much to look forward to
But it's my decision and I'm determined to see it through
The lymph nodes will go too but I doubt I'll grieve
But just to be on the safe side I'll be ordering a lymphodema sleeve.

All this talk of perkier tits certainly gets my vote
And I wonder when I'm swimming if they'll help keep me afloat?
So many recon options - the ld, diep and the tram
And with dermal slings and strattices I could even end up smelling of ham.

All this talk of expanders and having them pumped up
I wonder at what point they'll stop so I can see my new sized cup
Of course I worry how I'll feel about the inevitable scars
Just hope the stitching is quite neat then I won't look like I'm from mars.

And bloody rads could spoil my plans for my lovely new companions
So I'm praying that they'll stay convex and not turn into canyons
I'm relieved the surgery date is set and the tumours will be gone - phew
And I think I'll go for stick on nipples so better buy in some superglue!

Written by Colette

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Bikes and boobs

Can I have a bmx?' I used to ask my mum
'No love, ride your chopper, I'm not made of money hun'
Isn't it ironic if you fast forward 30 years
That bmx's and choppers would be causing me some tears

The surgeon with her chopper has taken away my boobs
Well what an op that was and boy did it feature tubes
With seven sticking out of me, I didn't feel too great
Nor sharing with a woman whose snoring made the ward vibrate

So my old, bad boobs have gone and there are new ones in their place
And looking at the scars was something I wasn't sure I could face
But I've had a good nosey round and they look alright to me
They're quite a perky pair even if they wouldn't make page three

Kids are so amazing and will tell you as it is
'Can I see your new boobs Mummy?', my 6 year old did quiz
So I braced myself and showed him - 'what do you think?, I said
'They're so much better Mummy, cos your others were bigger than your head'.

Written by Colette

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Reflections

I look in the mirror, and what do I see?
I see cancer staring back at me.
I used to see hair, I used to see a face,
now a disease has taken their place.
A constant reminder of what I’ve been through,
I only see one boob, I used to see two.

I’m hopeful that one day I will forget,
but that day isn’t here, not today, not yet.
But when that time comes, and I am set free,
I will look in the mirror
and see
only me.

Written by Caroline

~

b, c

The diary entry

for June 20^th 2011

reads ‘Hosp – 3.20’

then ‘lump, day 1’;

b was breast,

c was cancer,

life was upended.

The diary entry

for June 20^th 2012

reads ‘1 year’;

b is bee (small with ginger rump),

c is campanula (poscharskyana),

in whose purple blooms

the bee is upended;

and this is life.

Written by Samantha

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Turn on the Taps

There are no tears
My eyes are dry.
Sometimes I wish I could just cry,
And mourn the loss of things held dear
Instead of holding onto fear,
Of cancer coming back again
In my spine or in my brain.
I should be happy, so they say
The cancer’s gone – hip hip hooray!
But just for once,
Just for today,
I long for tears to wash away
The shame, the guilt, the hurt, the pain
That cancer causes
Again and again.

Written by Caroline

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Tamoxifen

Tamoxifen
My new best friend,
those sleepless nights that never end.
Depression, hot flushes and the rest
the side effects are not the best.
And yet I take it every day
to make the cancer stay away
because if it comes back instead
I fear the next time I’ll be dead

Written by Caroline

~

Pentameter
A poet may spend years trying to write
the perfect line of iambic poetry;
turns out my oncologist has the best
'As far as we can tell, you're cancer-free.'

© Samantha Newbury, 20 March 2012

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