The last of the treatment...Yay!

This poem was inspired by my last session of chemo at the hospital.
I ask why most people expected me to be all skinny and very ill looking.
The staff told me that at one time, patients were only given chemo, they would be very sick and loose their appetite. Now anti-sickness and appetite enhancers are given as a matter of course, so, unless you loose your hair, no one can really tell.

Where am I now?

6th and final chemo cycle,

This will take all day,

Like all the other chemo,

Later on, I'll pay.

The patients here

All look so well.

We all have cancer,

But you can't tell.

Along with chemo in your veins

Some other stuff goes in.

This all stops you from being sick,

And stops you from being slim!

The drugs give you an appetite,

So....you eat a lot,

And you 'bang' the weight on!

Your diets are forgot!

The Doctors and the Nurses

Say you must loose NO weight!

So, if you do, they say to you,

"Go home, and fill your plate!"

So now I have neuropathay,

Phlebitis and feel numb,

And all I have to show for it

I a whacking great big bum!

The next thing that I need to do,

Is go and have a scan.

This will be the 'benchmark',

And shows cancer, if it can.

So for now, I will tell myself

That after all this 'hell',

Carol Hubbard is now 'cancer free!'

And 'feeling, Oh, so well!'

Now I have to go to work,

And pick up where I left,

And hope that I can still do it,

Despite some side effects.

I know I can,

I'm sure I can,

I'm made of some tough stuff.

That, and some support from work

I know will be enough!

Carol Hubbard 31st May 2011

My personal Journey so far

This poem was inspired by my diagnosis of cancer.
I have Neuroendocrine small cell cancer of the vagina.
Please feel free to read my blog if you have an interest in this subject.
confessionsofacancerpatient.blogspot.com.
If not, just enjoy the following verses.

My Personal Journey so far

I found a lump,

Small and sore.

Nothing for worries.

I've had them before.

To sit, stand and lay,

The thing hurt so much.

So, off to the Doctors 

For 'pain killing' stuff.

The Doctor, he looked,

He poked and he prodded.

"Go to the hospital!"

He looked a bit worried.

"The lump must be removed".

We think it's a cyst.

Biopsy approved.

Make sure nothing is missed."

A little time later,

A phone call I get.

"Come in on Friday,

To see me, my pet".

Friday is here.

To the hospital I trot.

"Sorry, my love,

"It's cancer you've got".

I must  have some Chemo,

Radiotherapy too.

28 days.

"This will effect you".

"You must have it done

To extend your life.

Stay being a Mother,

A sister, a wife."

"If I go through all of this,

How long will I live?

Give me a clue,

How long do you give?"

"There's no way to tell

If the cancer will die,

Or if it is you,

 Summoned on high".

My family and medics say,

"Give it a try!

Give it a chance

So that you wont die!"

3 x 3 cycles of chemo is done.

28 days of radiotherapy,

So close to my bum!

I am so tired, so burnt and so sore! 

Please don't make me have any more!!!!!

I can't sleep, I can't walk,

I can't wee, for the pain!

I can't stand, I can't sit!

Oh - NEVER AGAIN!!

Chemo is fine,

Just makes you feel sick,

And dizzy and tired

And poorly, so quick.

Radiotherapy is hard, it's rot!

28 days, I took all on the trot!

Would I have it again?

Certainly NOT!

The pain at times

Caused so much grief!

I actually saw death 

As a welcome relief!

Now that it's over, 

I don't remember the pain,

But, I do know for sure

Not to have it again!

Another  3 x 3 cycles 

Of chemo to go.

How do I feel?

Well, I don't really know.

Chemo is better

Than your bum being burned.

But other STUFF comes with it,

This recently, I learned.

2 and a half cycles

Again, I've been through.

So, just wait and see,

That's all I can do!

Carol Hubbard 1st June 2011.

Support from a friend.

I was feeling a bit down, and sorry for my self during my radiotherapy treatment.
A friend of mine, who had already seen a friend of hers go through cancer treatment, sent this poem to me.
It was written by her friend.


"Cancer is so limited...
It cannot cripple love.
It cannot shatter hope.
It cannot corrode faith.
It cannot eat away peace.
It cannot destroy confidence.
It cannot kill friendship.
It cannot shut out memories.
It cannot silence courage.
It cannot reduce eternal life.
It cannot quench the Spirit."
.

.
I found the poem inspirational, and showed cancer for it's true limitations.

This poem was not written by me.

Something beautiful

I was looking out of the window into the back garden today. It was late morning.
The garden was mainly in the shade, but there was a single beam of sunshine streaming down close to the window.

There must have been a light misty rain, barely noticeable, it gave the impression of tiny chards of crystal floating gently down on the sun beam.

Very pretty.

I Miss You Dad

My Dad was a 'Crafts Man' in his later years.
Dad retired from the Army after 23 three years. 'Civvy Street' was not an easy place for him.
He eventually found his niche as a pyrographer. (Poker worker). This was in his late 50's and early 60's.
In fact, he was the only pyrographer in the whole of England who earned his living this way.
He would go to craft fayres around the country. At week ends, I would join him. (We both enjoyed craft work). One week end, Mum went with him. This was her first week end at the fayres. The plan was to get a motor home, and they would go of every week end. They were both looking forward to it.
At 04.00 on a Saturday morning, Dad complained of indigestion.
He died at 05.00. No warning.

You made the truest sacrifice,

You and Mum together,

To bring me up the best of ways,

No matter what the price.

Whilst you were here amongst us all,

You listened to my fears.

The big ones, the small ones,

You wiped away my tears.

You shared with me my good times,

My fun times and my laughter.

These memories will stay with me

For now and ever after.

Breath of your God has blown on you,

And taken you to stay

In pastures green

And Heaven's blue.

A place that's far away.

I'm standing her with heavy heart,

And full of disbelief,

Remembering you life, our love.

I'm trembling with grief.

You have always been the dearest Dad

And the best friend ever known.

I love you lots

And miss you loads.

Don't leave me on my own.

Over many years, we've been so close,

It's hard to be part.

I know that you'll be with me Dad,

But, still it breaks my heart.

They say that you have not gone far,

To somewhere like the moon,

But just moved on, beyond that door,

Into another room.

I know that you are happy now,

And suffering no pain.

But I would give most anything 

To hold you once again.

As time goes by, I'm sure I'll find

The pain will ebb away,

And be replaced with memories

And in my heart they'll stay.

Silent Screams.

When I was working with people with disabilities, I spent time working in what was then called 'The special needs unit'.

Well, we all have special needs, some have extra special needs.

The adults that I was working with at the time had extra, extra special needs.

Most were unable to move, eat, tend to their personal needs without assistance from another.

The only time you touch me

Is to take me to the loo,

Or to feed

Or to change me,

Or there's something else to do.

I am waiting very patiently

For a touch that has no reason,

A touch that has no rhyme.

Please just come and cuddle me

Because you have the time.

If I could, I'd come to you.

For all I want and need.

But, as you know,

I have no voice.

I cannot even plead.

Some come and hold me,

Touch me - Do!

Because, as I know,

I cannot come to you.

'95

Beech Court

I wrote this along time ago, I have adapted it to fit my present place of work!

We chase it here,

We chase it there,

But what you ask

Is sought?

Best practice and good 

Care we want.

The best that's ever bought.

The staff are good,

The team is strong.

The work is done so well!

But can we catch a little more?

Our reputation to swell!

Best service here

Is our cause.

Our aim to care and please.

To give all independence,

So our thinking we must tease.

Beech Court is clean,

Beech Court is good,

And F.H.A. will pay.

So can we give a little more?

Hey, Sandra, what do you say?

Let's both stand and fight a bit,

And then, for we who fought.

We both stand united

For that little extra caught!