Wednesday, February 06, 2008: Day 19 - Post-diagnosis

Not going to write much today. Rode the bike 7.2 miles, ran 3.5 miles – set up a meeting with some physical trainers to work on my pre-surgery workout schedule – gotta tone up the stomach before they split it open! Working on the list of “quotes of the day” to write on my ass for the radiation techs. Getting input from all my trainers – now that they are finally all comfortable with it, they are coming up with some hilarious ones: “That’s not a fart, it’s my tumor talking,” and “Does this radiation make my butt look big?”

In more morbid/morose news, I came upon a piece of a poem today by W.H. Auden that is resonating with me:

“Cancer’s a funny thing

Nobody knows what the cause is,

  Though some pretend they do;

It's like some hidden assassin

  Waiting to strike at you.

 Childless women get it.

  And men when they retire;

It's as if there had to be some outlet

  For their foiled creative fire.”

Most of it doesn’t come across very well to my ear – the rhyming is too blatant, and the language seems too simple, with the exception of the first line and the last two. I like the general sentiment of the first stanza, and the last two lines haunt me. I guess I feel some unresolved issues with not having artistic creativity be a regular part of my life. Who knows, maybe cancer is my kick in the ass to start writing… Can someone tell fate that she could just have written a note?

On a funny follow up to that poem, I was doing a search for it online to get the wording right, and I came across another poem entitled “Cancer’s a funny thing” by a scientist named J.B.S. Haldane – the first two lines of which are “I wish I had the voice of Homer/to sing of rectal carcinoma.” Oh hell yeah, now there is a poem for me!

Song of the day: Grey Cell green by Ned’s Atomic Dustbin

Quote from the song: “Desire. You’re telling me it’s in the trees, in the trees, it’s not it’s inside me. You’re telling me it’s on the ground, it’s all around. It’s not it’s inside me now.”