"Do you see this?- Here?"
Excited gestures to the screen
As the coral mound becomes more visible
A quick flick of the tube,
Ignoring the flesh attached,
And there it is.
"This is exactly what you see in the bladder usually...
when there's cancer."
I should be interested, and I am,
But as I stare in the darkness
At the screen that predicts fate
I'm suddenly lying on that couch
With a voice booming over me.
"There's Cancer."
I splutter, shocked,
But he lies still.
I realise age has been kind
His hearing is gone.
But he's heard the word before.
"Cancer."
I look at his body, filled with pity.
Objectively, the doctor tells me it is superficial-
it can be cut out- just a short dose of chemo-
it will not shorten his life-
He's 86.
"Mr X", the doctor shouts,
"We've found a cause for your bleeding. Cancer."
"Cancer?"
"Yes"- he explains that they will cut it out-
just a short dose of chemo-
it will not shorten his life-
At 86 years old he shuffles out of the room
Stick in hand. I watch him go.
Shoulders lower than before,
Succumbing bit by bit...
Prostate, Bones, Bladder, Shoulders...
Expressions, demeanour.
His life expectancy hasn't changed while
His expectations of life lowered.
