To the Nurse who sat beside me
and helped me understand,
there was still power in pressing “start”,
with my own quaking hand.
And the Nurse who shared witty tales
of spiders above her bed,
brightening dull chemo-ward evenings
with laughter, vibrant instead.
To the GP who softly understood,
how the word “lump” would bring sure tears,
the certain rise of a Terror,
which in that instant rears.
To the Surgeon who offered safety
when it was “it’s cancer” all over again…
Who held my hands and made me feel,
a little less lost in all my pain.
And the Surgeon who went with me,
where loved ones could not tread,
and the hardest thing became lying prone,
on an operating bed.
To the Oncologist whose firm reassurance
that “anger is allowed”
because the strength of that emotion,
had me anything but proud.
And the Macmillan Nurse who stated,
all thorny moments do pass by,
equipping me with resilience
for yet another try…
These Women have inspired
a resolute, determined voice and
in their day-to-day work returned to me,
the privilege of choice
