2 articles Tag Lorraine

For Lorraine.

Chimes sing Sunday morn
Today’s the day she’s sworn
To steal what she never could own
And race from this hole she calls home

Now you’re at the wheel
Tell me how, how does it feel?
So good to have equalised
To lift up the lids of your eyes

As the miles they disappear
See land begin to clear
Free from the filth and the scum
This American satelite’s won

She’ll carry on through it all
She’s a waterfall

She’ll carry on through it all
She’s a waterfall

See the steeple pine
The hills as old as time
Soon to be put to the test
To be whipped by the winds of the west

Stands on shifting sands
The scales held in her hands
The wind it just whips her and wails
And fills up her brigantine sails

She’ll carry on through it all
She’s a waterfall

She’ll carry on through it all
She’s a waterfall

Cancer is a C*nt.

I feel that I should preface this post by saying that there is a lot of bad language, a lot of emotion and a whole load of anger. If you’re sensitive or easily offended, don’t read it as I will not apologise for a single word of it.

What do you say to a person who has been told they’re going to die? When a person is ill, even seriously ill, but there’s a glimmer of hope you can do your best with “I’m sure it’ll be fine” or “stay positive” or even “don’t worry, I’ll be praying for you”. But when someone has been sent home from hospital, being told that there’s no more that can be done to save them from a disease, what do you say? That’s not a hypothetical musing, I genuinely need some help with this.

Because what I really want to say is “Fuck you, cancer, you’re a cunt”.

It may be a complete cliche, but cancer is indiscriminate. Cancer doesn’t give a fuck whether you’ve been a brilliant person, whether you’re too young to die or have a shit load of potential that won’t be fulfilled. I’ve heard so many people say “It’s not fair, why do nice people get ill when there are paedophiles and serial murderers in prisons who never suffer?”. And the only answer I can give is that cancer DOES. NOT. GIVE. A. FUCK.

I cannot even begin to imagine how scary it must be to be told that you only have a certain amount of time to live. I’m not afraid to admit that I’m terrified of my own mortality and I think that comes from my internal conflict over the afterlife. See, I do believe in a ‘higher power’. I look at the universe and I feel that I couldn’t not believe in a higher power, at the very least something or someone to plant the seed from which everything as we know it grew. But I also have a more scientific, reasoned side to brain which tells me that everything is carbon and will be once again, and that’s all there is to it.

But then, I’ve not suffered, have I? I’ve not opened my eyes in the morning, only for the pain to kick in and just wish that it would all go away, wishing for sweet release from a body that’s letting you down.

I just don’t know how to get my head around it.

Maybe it’s down to experience. My Nan died about 7 years ago and while that was utterly heartbreaking, she was an old lady and she’d been ill for a while. It’s easier to reconcile something when you can get your head around the timing.  Old people are supposed to die. It’s shit, but they’ve had their life, left their footprint on the world and we can let them go with the most minute amount more ease than someone whose death is untimely.

I guess the point is, I’m really fucking angry.

I’ve not cried. I’m not quite sad yet. I’m numb, I’m waiting for the worst to happen, I swing from being confused to enraged to totally and utterly devoid of words to even explain how I feel. I can’t even begin to imagine how my Dad must feel, how her Mum must feel. All I know is, I’m devastated for them all.

So, I’ll say it again. Cancer is a cunt. And that’s all there is to it.

If any of you want to donate to Cancer Research, I’ve added a widget in my sidebar. Thanks.