October 7th

Awake at 3 a.m. again but this time went to bathroom toilet for the first time in months. Opened Kate’s Poem for the Day book and this was October 7th’s: Titled – Jewels in my hand

I hold dead friends like jewels in my hand

Watching their brilliance gleaming in my palm

Turquoise and emerald, jade, a golden band

All ravages of time they can withstand

Like talisman their grace keeps me from harm

I hold dead friends like jewels in my hand

I see them standing in some borderland

Their heads half-turned, waiting for my arm

Turquoise and emerald, jade, a golden band

I’m not afraid they will misunderstand

My turning to them like a magic charm

I hold dead friends like jewels in my hand

Turquoise and emerald, jade, a golden band

Sarah Moorsom

She wrote this in hospital soon after first being treated for cancer. She also said how important it is to accept whatever happens with equanimity. This too will be one of my watchwords. Weird equanimity.

Drove myself to hospital yesterday for cardiology appointment and stopped off in Poole to go to O2 shop. Now going into a phone shop feeling weirdly cancerous with a body full of chemo as an older gentleman is an episode difficult to accurately reflect with mere words.

Just had a phone call from the local health centre to arrange a 6 monthly review, I know GP waiting lists are long, but within 2 weeks of diagnosis!

KOKO love Duncan


3 thoughts on “October 7th

  1. Holding al friends as preciously…..
    Every day on recent mindfulness retreat we were guided to have ‘a caaaalm and equanimous mind’ – ne’er mind that the word isn’t generally recognised (he was Burmese, though could recite pages of gautama’s teachings in Pal as well as english and hindi).
    (Doesn’t do much for stoking the fires of indignation such as generated after a long day Advising Citizens though….)

    Big C joke alert:
    A woman with terminal cancer returns to religion with fervour. She knows that God will help her get better.
    Early in her sickness, a surgeon proposes radical surgery.
    “No”, she says, “I don’t want to get mutilated and suffer pain. It’s not necessary, God will help me”.
    A while later, she sees a radiologist and he proposes radiation to treat the tumour, which by now is
    uncomfortably large. “No”, she says, “I don’t want radiation burns inside and out. It’s not necessary.
    God will help me.”
    A year later, the cancer has metastasized. It’s painful and she is referred to an oncologist. Chemotherapy
    is advised.
    “No”, she says, “I don’t want to be sick all the time and lose my hair as well. It’s not necessary. God will
    help me”.
    Soon after, she dies. She goes to Heaven and demands an audience with God. “Why didn’t you help
    me?,” she whines.
    “What do you mean? I sent you help three times: a surgeon, a radiologist and an oncologist. What
    more did you want?”
    May all your ologists be wise and powerful.


  2. Aha! I knew it. They only tell you about all the negative side effects of chemo. They don’t tell you, for example, that you will probably develop a deeper understanding of poetry.


  3. Don’t know what to say. Riveting writing and I look forward to hearing more. If only I was as creative with words and ideas i’d change career immediately.


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