Confessions of a Cancer Patient

Sitting alone in a room for weeks on end, staring at the same walls; you wonder if anyone cares. Does anyone care at all? Of course, they care, they have unused in their busy workweek, that five or 30 minutes. It’s too dismal for them to attend, too depressing for them to spend, their off hours with an ailing friend.

They say, “No longer a productive member of society”, doesn’t hit until you know that you will never work again as your body starts to shrink. Pieces they cut off and out, never to return; you feel a monster, never to see the light of day again.

Society types, you once called colleagues, don’t know you and don’t call. Can you blame them? You were once there – struggling to get to the top or at the very least somewhere at ease.

But In a straight line, you no longer walk and your eyes and bone are weakening. Treatments they have given you, wounded, temporarily quelling the monster hiding in your body: they have done lasting damage.

Your skull feels unendingly searing now, your discomfort endless. Your bones ache, your ears ring unremittingly; you feel lightheaded, divided, and responsive from the medications you take. The question is no longer if… it’s when.