Writing Through Cancer. One might think this would be depressing and would not want to read the posts, but the writer, Sharon A. Bray, teaches writing to cancer patients. The patients, like all of us who write, find it helps them deal with what is happening to them or happened to them. The blogger writes very well and she uses quotes from writers and poets in her posts.
I recommend this blog for anyone who has known someone with cancer or anyone who is a survivor of cancer. I have had two members of my family diagnosed with cancer, and I know what it does to the patient and those who love him.
Without writing, I don't know how I would have survived Barry's tortuous lymphoma ordeal. Tonight I came across a rough draft of a poem I wrote when he was sick. The caregiver, in an effort to protect the patient, becomes ill as well, emotionally and physically at times. In spite of my pain, you can see I have hope for both of us.
Bowed and broken, he forgets
that I suffer, too.
I suffer his losses and my own.
He forgets I have needs, someone to share
my fears with, my anger, my grief.
Beside the lake, water brings calm
to my spirit that has been torn, crushed and shoved
under his illness that becomes mine.
Somewhere the sun shines behind the clouds.
I see a small glow over western peaks,
a promise that we'll reach a joyous place
again one day.
I recommend this blog for anyone who has known someone with cancer or anyone who is a survivor of cancer. I have had two members of my family diagnosed with cancer, and I know what it does to the patient and those who love him.
Without writing, I don't know how I would have survived Barry's tortuous lymphoma ordeal. Tonight I came across a rough draft of a poem I wrote when he was sick. The caregiver, in an effort to protect the patient, becomes ill as well, emotionally and physically at times. In spite of my pain, you can see I have hope for both of us.
Bowed and broken, he forgets
that I suffer, too.
I suffer his losses and my own.
He forgets I have needs, someone to share
my fears with, my anger, my grief.
Beside the lake, water brings calm
to my spirit that has been torn, crushed and shoved
under his illness that becomes mine.
Somewhere the sun shines behind the clouds.
I see a small glow over western peaks,
a promise that we'll reach a joyous place
again one day.
