Late winter months as news imparts
the gravity of this new start
dear God as we begin this fight
in restless days and feverish nights,
as poison flows through damaged veins
please not let this be in vain…
Smaller smiles through struggling days
of waiting for the nausea waves,
understanding strange regimes
jab jab as harsh it always seems,
as draw for tests to go ahead
when all he wants is his fresh clean bed.
Perpetual hours that make me sigh
impatience that since child has always been
and now this purgatory of hopeful scene,
as tedious the walks I make
through lengthy corridors and doors of pain,
please Lord! let there be a gain.
How good the compassionate nurses who
bring solace to my broken warrior,
a smile or a tender word all make a difference,
I notice a gentle hand on his shoulder,
in their relentless comforting care.
I also notice many sitting there,
with their dreams of better days…
My mind whirls as the precious cylindrical vial arrives with pomp and ceremony,
to scientists far away who have tried to bring
with knowledge gained, further days.
It is received with hope and joy
but will it work to overcome?
for this Man who waits expectantly with those oh! so trusting eyes.
A Poem about Chemotherapy February 2010– all rights reserved