I thought that I would post a couple of ODES by our resident Poet Laureate at the superb Lingen Davies Cancer Centre at Shrewsbury Hospital where a group of us are having treatment.
ODE TO PROSTATE CANCER RADIOTHERAPY.
Monday morning comes around, I’ll tell you all where I can be found
At Lingen Davies is where I’ll be, waiting for my therapy!
They call you down to LA3, time to move and have a pee.
Bladder empty for a while, then refill with drink you have to smile.
The waiting room is my next stop, some folks are even drinking pop.
You have a chat with all your mates, mostly about our finishing dates.
You change into your dressing gown and watch some folks walk up and down
Trying to empty excess gas - the look of pleasure when it has!
Knobbly knees are now on show, forty minutes left to go.
My bladders almost bursting, O’ come on, call my name.
But a machine is on the blink, rotton so and so
As its often the case - t’is a wonderful game.
A smiling face looks through the door, can you please hold on for a little more?
You cross your legs and hope for the best.
You keep looking anxiously at the door
Please call me soon or there’ll be a mess!
The smiling face now calls your name, we’re up and running again.
Her cold hands move you and align you for the beams,
Back soon she says, then clunks and buzzes fill your brain
And help take your mind off your bursting bladder, or so it seems.
All over for another day, rush off to have a well earned pee
But we have but one facility and that’s the truth.
Empty - phew, now changed and dressed, I too am free
Oh drat, but not quite yet, for there she is - our Ruth!
So, to all you sufferers, I say bottoms up and raise a glass
And pay some heed to this sad tale
For, although prostate cancer’s a pain in the arse,
These bl***y enemas are beyond the pale.
ODE TO IT’S ONLY A LITTLE PRICK OR HORMONE THERAPY
Let me tell you all about my injections
and what they do to me.
They shrink the prostate very small
so it can be zapped by therapy
You lie there on a bed,
they inject you in the tum,
very clever really
it goes straight down to your bum
It hurts like holy hell,
but really good for cancer.
The nurse shoves it all the way,
she thinks she’s a Bengal Lancer
So all those female hormones
are now cursing through your veins,
any shred of masculinity you had
almost gone, very little remains.
You can forget the “rumpy bumpy”,
it ain’t going to happen anymore.
I hope you have an understanding partner
who knows and understands the score.
Hot flushes, dry skin and itching,
then menopause is next.
You grow a lovely pair of breasts,
but have no thoughts of sex
So forget your sexual prowess
in and out of bed;
And don ‘t forget those mood swings,
they are going to fry your head.
So don’t worry about the treatment
that they make you have,
get in touch with your feminine side,
you’ll find its quite a laugh.
The first one shows the humourous side of the 37 sessions that we have to go through and the second the humourous side of the three to five years of further treatment.
I am coming to the end of my sessions and oddly enough I will miss the companionship, camaraderie and joking amongst ourselves and with the excellent radiographer staff.
Enjoy. Bernard Lloyd