Daffodil Day
I am reminded this week that I have lived for thirteen years following a diagnosis of cancer in 2006. That is due to medical science and the fact that my sister Helen donated stem cells, which were used for the transplant that saved my life. So my gratitude and appreciation know no bounds. It has enabled me to see my grandchildren arrive and be a source of sheer bliss and delight and to be living in a soon to be more crowded multigenerational household. It has also got me to the point of a Masters in Creative Writing at Manchester Metropolitan University. This is the icing on the cake.
Over the years, I have been aware of those around me who got cancer diagnoses. On my latest count, thirty-five people that I know have had a diagnosis and six have died. So my gang is running at an 83% survival rate, including me. That’s pretty good going, I think. It prompted the following, so read, enjoy, pass on and let me know what you think:
Another One
Text received:
DM had a malignant tumour
removed from her bile duct
starting chemo in March
The list of friends who join me
gets longer and fuller,
not too many drop off,
surviving is more the norm.
It does mean that we all have new
work to do – manage the damn thing –
support others who are, or are not,
– campaign for care, because
the system is beyond bursting.
Twelve years on this road, we
stand, sit or crawl at 83 per cent
still standing but mangled.
Peter Clarke
February 2019
triona Mc morrow
20.03.2019 08:00
Great poem, full of energy and positivity. Well done Peter
Allegra
19.03.2019 23:21
As a fellow survivor.... Good words. Love you. XX
Mary Morrissey
18.03.2019 21:15
Thanks Peter. Really like it. I find it to be hopeful and uplifting.
Marguerite Colgan
18.03.2019 07:52
Well done, the poem is also well done! I like "surviving" last line 2nd verse, active as against "survival". Go Maire tu an chead.
Rosy Wilson
17.03.2019 22:30
Great blog and poem Peter. Your a hero your sister too. Good to see your survival stats. Anna and a family close friend and her daughter are swimming 4 kilometers each for cancer swimathon this month.
Clíodhna
17.03.2019 18:49
I echo Pearl - very glad you are still around! xxxx
Suzanne
17.03.2019 18:45
Well done I still remember the curly hair. 10 years now for me xxxx
Maurice C
17.03.2019 17:02
I share the experience, and the sentiments. Ultreia, my friend.
Pearl molloy
17.03.2019 16:42
So glad you are still around
Latest comments
25.11 | 22:15
Grief is experience through the mundane. Simple but powerful. The accompanying image really compliments the poem.
07.11 | 11:14
Hi Peter,
A great observation! Social media can be a scary place... I also need to reduce my time there
Hugs,
John.x
06.11 | 16:24
A great one, Peter, in the context you describe. I don't read social media myself, I doubt my equilibrium could stand it. 'The balance of his mind disturbed' yes, I think it would be.
06.11 | 15:59
Yes, gossip is a weapon of mass destruction.
In my business as well as personal life I have zero tolerance.
Echoes of the Old on the New Battlefields
Warrior chiefs of the GAA were early on the field to prepare:
Posts and cones positioned to mark territories
Very young novices came later by parents’ chariots
clad and shod for the ensuing battles
Firstly, paced for speed, resilience and flexibility,
then marked off into opposing teams
Each warrior chief led a young squad of hopefuls
in further exercises to bring them to fit levels
There followed a huddle, an exhortation rant,
responded with clamour of intent and enthusiasm
Skirmishes began, speed across the field, hunt for the ball,
to be delivered as the goal, or to be prevented at all costs
Warrior chiefs egged on, instructed, altered the field of play
the young ’uns complied with fighting spirit
For every fall and hurt spells were cast on the side line
till fitness returned and they were entered back into play
Scores mounted, roars enhanced, casualties grew,
novices flagged and regrouped across the fields
Between bouts came the talks of encouragement
Stay back, pass, pass, pass, keep the pace.
Old hands passing skill onto new palms with dedication,
a gift of generous wisdom gladly given
Peter Clarke
20th April 2024