Oh, the Places You Will Chemo

There isn't much to laugh about when it comes to breast cancer, but I made the decision when I was diagnosed six months ago to make it my business to try and distract myself from all the treatment and doctors and side effects. To wit, I offer up a poem.
This post was published on the now-closed HuffPost Contributor platform. Contributors control their own work and posted freely to our site. If you need to flag this entry as abusive, send us an email.

There isn't much to laugh about when it comes to breast cancer, but I made the decision when I was diagnosed six months ago to make it my business to try and distract myself from all the treatment and doctors and side effects. To wit, I offer up a poem:

Are You My Chemo?

I do not like this chemo crap.
I do not want to wear a cap.
I do not want an IV drip.
No Carboplatin, not one sip.
I do not like my face with rashes.
I liked my lids when they had lashes.
I did not want to lose my hair.
And yes, I've lost it everywhere.
Now, nothing seems to be much fun
When to the bathroom I must run.
I cannot taste what's on my plate.
You'd think that I could lose some weight.
But these steroids, it must be noted
Just cause me to feel big and bloated.
I realize that "this, too, shall pass"
I'll bet I get to keep my a**.
And I'm sure it's a foregone conclusion:
I do not want my next infusion.
But I must go, I can't postpone.
So with this poem, I'll bitch and moan.
And friends, indulge me with this blog,
And excuse my writing chemo-fog.
To end this here, I have to say; there is not any better way:
I do not like this thing called cancer.
Next time it calls, I will not answer.

Popular in the Community

Close

HuffPost Shopping’s Best Finds

MORE IN LIFE