By Amy, today after the phone call
After broaching the subject to several close friends,
I concluded for docs to know this, on me it depends.
Beneficial I tried to be, because Knowledge Is Power,
After penning my feelings at my darkest hour.
Arising too often in my life, side effects rear their gruesome face,
Try as I might, positivity’s not nearly always the case.
So I knew at the moment it had to be done:
Put pen to paper to share truths, more than 1.
Frankly, I didn’t give myself much of a choice,
Knowing my actions could help give many patients a voice.
(Since physicians are limited to seeing only patients’ lives in their care,
I took it upon myself to be the one to freely share.)
Of sadness, depression, feeling hopeless in my state, which will never get better,
One cancer survivor’s hard life – mine – I described in the letter.
To make the chosen readers feel bad was not my intent,
My goal was to show how my worst days are spent.
Glad I was to receive today a call from my favorite physician,
He came from an appreciative, caring & thankful-to-know position.
It’s not too far-reaching to call him, shall we say, a “cancer mechanic.”
And his name rhymes with the end of this phrase (I tell to others about him) “Don’t PANIC.”
So delivering the telling words, I can only guess,
Is 1 reason God made me a medical mess.