I’ve been trying out a new genre…rap! Here I am spinning verses about my recent experience with breast cancer. Lyrics below.
What is the Answer?
I had a lump in my breast it turned out to be cancer.
The doctors said surgery’s the only good answer.
Would I lose my whole breast, or only a part?
when the scans were unclear, then so was my chart.
Would it be triple negative? Hormone-receptor positive?
HER2 negative? Ductal or invasive?
The possible treatments like a series of codes
They’d cut not just my tumor, but also my lymph nodes.
Would I get painful cording in my underarm?
Or would that, like other side effects, prove a false alarm?
Would node biopsy make my arm and shoulder stiff?
Would it permanently disrupt my system of lymph?
No more hanging from a bar, and how would I dance?
And teach and stay balanced, not to mention go to France?
Just sitting and writing all day would be torture.
I wanted to move my body, maybe be a performer?
Checked out cancer diet books from the library;
they said no sugar, or alcohol, and no dairy
The plastic surgeon had me crying, showing me the imagery;
she said get reconstruction if your goal is symmetry
My surgery was scheduled for just before dawn
up and scrubbing, nothing past my lips it’s six in the morn
Have to pee in a cup, use antibacterial soap
Surprise! for anesthesia I’ll get a tube in my throat
To put the IV lock in place, I’ve got to be lying down
Have my slipper socks on, and my operating gown
Radioactive contrast in, and now I’m off to sleep
wake up weak some hours later, but no reason to weep.
I thought it would be worse, but I didn’t complain
when friends and neighbors came with an awesome meal train.
Lentil soup, salmon, veggies, super healthy diet
my daughter scrunched her nose but I said, “Can you just try it?”
The front-close sports bras kept me tightly pressed in.
No lifting my right arm and watch for swelling
Wait to see—would the lymph nodes test positive?
Thank God, no, it seemed that the cancer hadn’t spread.
The excised tumor stored somewhere in a vault.
I kept on wondering, what was at fault?
For this unnatural growth—glyphosate, the pill, or both?
Antimalarial antibiotics, general plastic assault?
Sure it may have been fate, but explanations I sought
For cancer. What was the answer?
Cancer. What was the answer?
Like the SAT, I awaited my Oncotype score
Would they recommend chemo, could I handle any more?
Treatment. Next radiation.
Whether to proceed became the conversation
I listed pros and cons, and tried to intuit
whether, and if, I should go ahead and do it.
I feared long-term effects messing up my body
were rays really the best idea, or maybe just folly
Once again I thought, “What about my daughter?”
being a mom got me doing what docs said I oughta
So my new job became daily radiation sessions
Calendula cream one of my treasured possessions.
Finally got the Oncotype
telling me what’s recommended to best stay alive
Turned out no chemo but I would need hormone therapy
Would it mess up my mood, my relationships terribly?
And what about my voice?
singing one of my joys
Would blocking estrogen
make me sound like robot specimen?
Have faith in Western medicine or take alternate route?
Could diet and exercise rival cancer cell pursuit?
Ten years of hormone pills sounds awfully bad
could I really live fulfillingly, really withstand?
Damn!
Messing up my voice just one concern
hot flashes, aging, memory loss—ouch! this could burn
A side of unfulfilled potential
along with my survivor credential
Cancer. What is the answer?
Cancer. What is the answer?
I’m trying qigong, and some Chinese herbs
working on my qi, drinking lots of green tea
working on my qi, drinking lots of green tea
Tamoxifen? I’m not too certain.
Cancer. What is the answer?
Cancer. What is the/ What is the answer?
Music adapted from “Learn My Lesson” beat by Freek van Workum, www.freekvanworkum.net.