“In a green room with no curtains near the station” (variation of Cream lyrics “In a White Room” 1969)

A panel meets today
to see if God’s in DNA.
The very thought’s appalling
so many miss their calling.
For those who’re truly wise
it comes as no surprise
that the devil really dwells
at the center of our cells.
From my chapbook “love language”

I wrote that bit of doggerel about 20 years back after reading about a science panel meeting to discuss finding God in DNA. About that time lots was being written in finding God in cells, the brain and so on. People have been trying to find the existence of God since the beginning of time. Why? We’re afraid of death and being purposeless in the universe. I don’t have any answers except my cancer and other cancer friends have made me question everything. All I know is that cancer is a naturally occurring evil.

I’ve been thinking about this because every Monday I am in a waiting room (the green room near the station i.e. death referred to in title) at Sarah Cannon with other metastatic patients waiting on their infusions. I watch to see who has grown thinner, who is sleeping, who is missing, who looks happy. Last Monday was a mixed bag. The normally chipper 70 something guy who resembles Hal Holbrook (he played Mark Twain on stage and was a love interest in tv show “designing women”) was wrapped in a blanket and had a difficult time talking (pain drugs I assumed). When I asked him how he was, he said ok but clearly he was not. He then said he’d had cancer in his bones for 7 years and never felt it til now. Another young guy was waiting in his pet scan results. He was hoping the tumors had shrunk. He said he felt great. The nurses called him back to talk to his doctor. When he got back, he shook his head. “The tumors have grown. The drug isn’t working. I have 6-12 months to live.” What do you say to that other than “I’m sorry.” The good news for one guy was this was his last chemo infusion but will stay on some oral chemo protocol for months? Years? It’s colon cancer.

Since April when I started going to Sarah Cannon several have vaporized or died. One was a 36 yr old mom of 2 who had my Tnbc. She died within 2 years. And this morning I read on a website that a 32 yr old with Young children has terrible cancer in her bones. Evil, evil, evil.

so what do we do? We try to love and support each other as much as we can. I love this poem by Seamus Heaney “The miracle”:

Not the one who takes up his bed and walks
But the ones who have known him all along
And carry him in –

Their shoulders numb, the ache and stoop deeplocked
In their backs, the stretcher handles
Slippery with sweat. And no let up

Until he’s strapped on tight, made tiltable
and raised to the tiled roof, then lowered for healing.
Be mindful of them as they stand and wait

For the burn of the paid out ropes to cool,
Their slight lightheadedness and incredulity
To pass, those who had known him all along.

end

So thank you friends for carrying me all along. And I’ll try to carry others. And here’s a photo of me smiling. I’m supporting the website that helped carry me the past 3 years. The tshirts help to support breast cancer thrivera and notice it’s not pink :). My darling daughter took photos for the website I support (breastconnect.org). She’s a genius photographer to make this old, metastatic, lymphatic thriver look good. Follow her at @ewisemanphoto on Instagram.