It was never about The Cancer It was about Me
=============================================

* Shelby Owens

![Figure1](http://www.cmaj.ca/https://www.cmaj.ca/content/cmaj/190/30/E913/F1.medium.gif)

[Figure1](http://www.cmaj.ca/content/190/30/E913/F1)

Image courtesy of prudkov/iStock

## Dysplasia

> Crept in quiet, slow
> 
> Like medieval medicine’s earthly humour.
> 
> Carelessly and inadvertently sown,
> 
> The seedlings were nurtured by potato chips and insomnia
> 
> And watered with ethanol.
> 
> The glamour of a dream career come true
> 
> Concealing the hazards of new-found habits.
> 
> Those sleepless nights spent ardently learning about the very thing making me sick.

## Carcinoma in situ

> The student of modern medicine overlooked
> 
> Her own symptoms —
> 
> Perhaps willfully.
> 
> Weight loss, night sweats, pain.
> 
> Took a week to believe what the doctor said.
> 
> Malignant.

> Genetics {one hit}
> 
> + stress {two hits} =
> 
> Not my fault.
> 
> The equation of blame remains.

## Invasive carcinoma

> It takes a village
> 
> To extract the small child’s worth of malignancy from my body.
> 
> The double-edged blade
> 
> Leaves me bleeding and reeling all the same.
> 
> Irony is a sick healer,
> 
> A toxic treatment.

## Metastasis

> It’s an awkward conversation
> 
> Telling folks you’re sick.
> 
> Nobody expects it to happen,
> 
> As if brilliance implies immunity, immortality.
> 
> So, ignorant, they say
> 
> “You’re so strong, you can beat this!
> 
> Think happy thoughts.”
> 
> But kamikaze cells don’t discriminate.

> Cessation of invitations, your debilitated body
> 
> Disquiets them,
> 
> As if it were contagious.
> 
> But at the wake they sob,
> 
> “How could this have happened?”

> Worse, it didn’t begin with me.
> 
> Worst, it won’t end with me.