Falling Sky

When the sky falls

It falls directly above me

Chunks of space left above me

An empty howling nothing that shouldn’t be there

An empty howling nothing

Pulling and waiting

Fissures fracture across the blue like fault lines on the ground

Foreshadowing where the next piece may fall

Sky falls when you hear the words

You have cancer

Lots of sky falls

Scans confirm it’s already metastatic

Another piece plummets

So much information

Type, subtype, hormone receptor, Her2Neu

Each a piece of forever lost sky

Cancer words hurl pieces of sky

To the ground in a show of gravity and force

Grades, mutations, invasive, lobular, ductal

More pieces

Stages

Chemotherapy

Lymph nodes

Trials

Genetics

Genomics

Treatments

Survival benefit

Bigger pieces fall

You barely notice because

Of the doom that distracts while closing in

Like a dark night of your soul

Metastatic

This piece hits like bricks

You’re never the same

Everything changes

Forever scarred

Inside and out

So many deaths

Each their own portion of fallen sky

Grandma, Mom, Pete, Jim, Becky, Susie,

Bobby, Karen, Marge, Kim, Lalay, Lindsay,

Meghan, Melissa, Heather, and so many others

Whose names do you remember?

Speak and give them voice

Irreplaceable sky fallen with each

Loss through death touches our souls forever

Like a shadow that never leaves

Or a coldness in the yellow warmth of sun

So many scans

Tiny tubes of skyless holes

Confining, enclosing, lifeless

Sky falls waiting for results

Slingshots take aim at clouds

We ourselves knock out chunks before we hear

News of regression, stability, or progression

Pieces of blue get patched and repaired with good news

And then fall again in bigger chunks with bad news

until they can’t be put back

Some things can’t be put back

Including the fallen sky

That won’t see sunrise or sunset again

Skies fall in countless ways

Some spoken and some silent

Skies drop cruelly with metastatic cancer

Piece by piece

Chunk by chunk

Section by section

Assaulting, assailing, and attacking

Erasing, eroding, and emptying more and more

Stealing, silencing, and stilling before our eyes

A persisting and prevailing powerlessness causing pain

For more than just the haver

Cancer kills

Murders

Slays

Massacres

Cancer carnage concealed in common language

Of either succumbing or statistics

What’s being done?

Where’s the urgency?

Why can’t it be solved?

When will all be saved?

How will we get there?

What’s being done is our voices

Speaking and shouting

More and more

We will be seen

And not silenced

More research slowly unfolds

More action and faces

More is needed

The urgency is the estimated 43,600 breast cancer deaths

For 2021 in the US

119 a day

Up 3 from last year

The answer is more resources and research

More advocacy, attention, and connections

Better treatments, more trials, more collaboration

Growing bigger one life at a time

I don’t know when all will be saved

I hope, I cry, I push, I pray

I keep going

I still don’t know

No one does

I don’t know how

But believe one day

Cancer will fall and be no more

Just like those pieces of falling sky

The sky has always been one of my favorite things

The endless blues

The different hues

The starry nights

The paint of sunrises and sunsets

The clouds floating freely wherever the wind takes them.

Still moments and morphing shapes change before our eyes

My home is still under its dome

Hope is in the sky

Let’s keep our eyes steady on the hope

Of today and all our tomorrows

And not those pieces of sky that fall

They will sadly keep falling

And I will look up to find

Handfuls of hope

Patches of blue

Where I can

Above

Cold Cancer Wind

the cold wind races

across the empty landscape

howling as it blows

I stand in a field

unable to find shelter

it pushes me back

cancer is that wind

causing damage everywhere

stinging my stunned face

I feel like the land

unprotected and ravaged

my body takes it

it runs rampantly

like an out of control storm

both inside and out

I may be alone

but I will stand against you

as long as I can

I’m not as easy

to knock down as you first thought

whipping cancer wind

I will push back hard

standing like a boulder with

granite in my veins

What I Did Last Summer

Spring was lost.

Summer was lost.

Uneventful days passed.

Life inched by like a snail going nowhere.

COVID has consumed six months now.

Six months gone.

Mostly alone.

Gone forever.

And yet I look at the good.

I can’t help it.

Good is always around.

Also forever.

One place I found it was in flowers.

Repetitive days of solitude

And safeness

Drew me to nature.

My camera my paintbrush.

Flowers my canvas.

So many patterns and colors

From 6 inches away.

Wonder

Beauty

Life

Joy

Summer was not lost after all.

A world covered in flowers is not only beautiful but a reassuring constant.

These thoughts formed as I thought about what I did over summer. There were a couple momentous events that I celebrated because birthdays and related plans still happen in pandemics. Most days were quiet. There was a lot of sameness and not much to shout about. I viewed medical appointments as chances to socialize a bit. My trips to the grocery store twice a month held high excitement.

My photos visually reflect what I did last summer whether I puttered about my back yard, paused to take a photo while walking in the neighborhood, or found myself in a favorite nature setting.

Patterns and colors in flowers captivated me this summer.
Everything about this makes me feel happy. The bright vibrant color. The layered petals. The petals slowly unfurling and still emerging from the center. It is a world in itself.
Floating flower art feels very zen.
Blues and purples are a soothing combination.
These colors remind me of a sunset. I marveled at several of these and found all were slightly different, just like every sunset.
This succulent reminded me of glazed pottery. I’m pretty sure it follows a Fibonacci sequence.
Bee balm attracts so much life. Watching its visitors has brought many happy moments to my summer.
Every flower has a story. I am one flower sharing mine.

I AM

I feel like the last few weeks of my life have been incredibly full and jammed packed. Too much is happening all at the same time. It always happens that way, doesn’t it? I haven’t been able to write a new post for today. Instead, I’m posting a poem I wrote about two months after I was diagnosed in 2012. It still rings true for me. It’s still my voice, my heart, and who I am.

In the original version, the font gradually gets larger and larger as the poem continues. I can’t do that the way I want on WordPress.  If read aloud, my voice gets louder and louder in a slow crescendo. That doesn’t work in this format either. Just sayin’.

If I had to add anything new my writing, I would include that I am a badass.

         I AM

I am not cancer.

I am not my hair.

I am not chemo, surgery, or radiation.

I am not my breasts.

I am not a project.

I am not defeatable.

I am not stoppable.

 

I am AMAZING.

I am NURTURING.

I am SUPPORTIVE.

I am SMART.

I am CLEVER.

I am DETERMINED.

I am POWERFUL.

I am a WINNER.

I am BEAUTIFUL.

I am LOVELY.

I am SEXY.

I am FUNNY.  (Just not at the same time as being sexy. 🤪)

I am FAITHFUL.

I am SPIRITUAL.

I am THOUGHTFUL.

I am UNIQUE.

I am CREATIVE.

I am ORIGINAL.

I am WISE.

I am FUN.

I am SWEET.

I am POSITIVE.

I am UPBEAT.

I am a DAUGHTER.

I am a SISTER.

I am a FRIEND.

I am a TEACHER.

I am a LEARNER.

 

I AM TOUGH.

I AM STRONG.

I AM A FORCE.

I AM A SURVIVOR.

I AM JOY.

I AM LIGHT.

I AM PEACE.

I AM KIND.

I AM LOVED.

I AM GRATEFUL.

I AM BLESSED.

I AM IN LOVE WITH LIFE.

 

A Day Off

Waking up to sunshine

feels good.

My soul is warm

from sleep.

I am rested.

I was away from cancer

if only in my dreams.

 

What would a day,

an honest to goodness

waking day,

be like away from cancer?

 

No lab numbers to think about.

No office visits

or treatments.

No waiting rooms

with the

disquieting

discomfort

that there are so many others

quietly waiting

and doing what I do

regularly.

 

No appointments

to schedule.

No scans or tests.

 

No pharmacies.

No new scripts.

No refills.

No hassles.

 

I wouldn’t have to take any

medications or

supplements

that may or

may not

help.

 

No side effects

to manage

for just one day.

 

No MyChart.

No waiting for answers

to questions that only

raise more

questions

or cause

more

angst.

 

I would be absent from

Twitter,

Facebook,

Instagram,

and WordPress.

 

The TV would be off all day.

I wouldn’t be subjected to

commercials for

Ibrance,

Piqray,

Verzenio,

Kisqali,

or the latest

metastatic breast cancer

drug.

 

I wouldn’t have to see a character

portrayed with cancer

with misinformation or

one who doesn’t match

my reality.

 

There is

always

something

to remind me.

 

A day off

would mean

ZERO

reminders

that I

live

with

metastatic breast cancer.

 

My mind

would need to be

wiped clean of my

knowledge and

memories

of having it

and of its existence.

 

Because I remember.

 

Because I am never away.

 

My only

break is

in my dreams

that aren’t real

and that are quickly

forgotten.

 

I don’t get a day off.

 

I get day

after day

after day . . .

 

And I’m still

here.

 

And I’m still

grateful.