When I was young, I fantasized about being
an eccentric old lady with long gray hair,
who wore evening gowns at noon
and played her accordion at bus stops
Six rounds of chemo
eyes closed imagining success
"This is what we call a Pathological Complete Response"
they would say...
"the chemo has worked wonders. The cancer is gone"
A complete response is the holy grail
you will be one of the lucky ones.
your chances are excellent
smiling through tears I would call my family
and we would breathe
but today didn't look like I had imagined
I watched on the monitor as she measured the
dark shadow that sits in my chest
it is still there
much smaller than it was in August
but it is still there
and I am heartbroken
I try hard not to cry... but
I can't control that either.
As I get off the table
the technician hugs me and tells me
not to worry.
The radiologist confirms what I already know.
that the chemo worked extremely well,
but it looks like there is
still some cancer left.
Will know for certain after
they cut it out
Surgery will take care of it.
She tells me I am so strong
But I just feel tired and broken.
and I cry some more
and try to catch my breath
Everyone says don't look at statistics...
but it is hard not to.
My chances are still good.
I know that I will have surgery
they will take out the fragments
and then radiate anything that remains.
I will take a year of herceptin
and possibly ten years of tamoxifen.
and pray that one day
I can be that old lady
at bus stops.