Home Archive Blogs Collections Podcasts Videos Info & Services
Skip Navigation LinksHome > March 25, 2011 - Volume 33 - Issue 6 > POETRY BY CANCER CAREGIVERS: Oath to Me: Chronicles of an Em...
Text sizing:
A
A
A
Oncology Times:
doi: 10.1097/01.COT.0000396403.84553.46
Poetry

POETRY BY CANCER CAREGIVERS: Oath to Me: Chronicles of an Empowered Patient

KrüG, Sarah

Free Access
Back to Top | Article Outline

Poetry by Cancer Caregivers

Submissions are welcome from oncologists, oncology nurses, and other cancer caregivers. E-mail only, please, to: OT@LWWNY.com, and include affiliation/title, address, and phone number, along with a photo, if available.

SARAH KRÜG is Global Education Director of Pfizer and is on the Board of Directors of Cancer 101, as well as the Cancer Patient Education Network, for which she is also Research Chair.

Quarter past nine, my knees buckle and go weak,

I make my way to reception—hardly able to speak.

I'm here for a sono/mammo I meekly declare,

That time of the year—dreaded scan of the “glam” pair.

Taking my seat, I demurely peer around the crowded room,

All twice my age-mature garden surrounding a fresh bloom.

Twisted knots and belly flops—I try and maintain composure,

A few minutes until game time—and a bit of indecent exposure.

A tangled web of genetics won't seal my fate,

Annual exams early on—surely a step towards my escape.

The wrath of cancer has taken its toll—across the family tree,

I take the bull by the horns won't “just let it” happen to me.

Empowered with knowledge and action—I will fight back,

Carefully masterminding my mode of attack.

Rigorous screenings—prevention and early detection are key,

Measures of success in my healthy lifestyle decree.

Wine in moderation and a health diet I strictly maintain,

Enjoying life to the max—laughter, friends, and long walks  in the rain.

Physical activity—I always find a way to work it in,

Mind over matter, I am truly destined to win.

My “glam pair” is now coated in a gelatinous sheath,

As a frigid probe, gingerly scopes what's beneath.

Holding my breath, I'm then pressed against a cool metal plate,

As what little is there is scanned—holding my fate.

Quarter to 10, I shed the dowdy hospital gown,

A fashion faux pas—duds not suitable out on the town.

Piece of cake—I think to myself—as I book next year's date,

Same time, Same place—I promise not to be late.

“Veni, vidi, vici”—immediately comes to mind,

That fear of the unknown—I've left it all behind.

Oath to me: I solemnly swear to do my part,

Never take health for granted and play life wicked smart!

© 2011 Lippincott Williams & Wilkins, Inc.

Login

Article Tools

Share