in the before and the after

Posted bywordsandcoffee1Posted inCancer, Poetry, Reading, W3 PromptsTags:, , , , , , 
time, for myself, is now bifurcated, 
cleaved around its natural disaster
channeled endlessly, sometimes I hate it
tunneled through disease: before and after

I comb through the past but can't reconcile
before the hourglass flipped on its side,
pooling in hollow in-between miles,
pouring sand through fingers splayed, I reside

on the other side, a trick of my mind,
a tear through the ether, freckling lightning,
meteors, Nether matter, and tree rind,
then silence except that infinite ring

a corn-cobbed future with yellow kernels
a past long lost bearing life's rehearsals

The W3 prompt at the Skeptic’s Kaddish this week is from Pankaj, who asks us to do the following:

  • Write a sonnet or any other 14-line poem about “The concept of time and how it affects our lives.”

I’m currently reading Suleika Jaouad’s “Between Two Kingdoms: A Memoir of a Life Interrupted” as a part of a post-treatment cancer group that I’m a part of. I’d initially read her memoir two years ago, just as I was wrapping up cancer treatment; however, as I have a tendency to do at times, I accidentally inhaled it, so I needed to re-read, slowly, carefully, this time, in order to properly discuss it with others.

Suleika was diagnosed with leukemia at age 22, and, according to her Instagram (yes, I follow her on the Insta), she relapsed last year. She seems to be doing well now, though, which I was really glad to hear. Her memoir talks about her incredibly difficult journey through cancer treatment and how it changed her path in life.

Anyways, the reason I’m talking about this book is that it inspired me a bit along with this prompt to try to convey the concept of time for a cancer survivor. From my own experience, and talking with others (and reading about still others!), it is impossible to return to life as normal after cancer treatment. You now have two lives: your life before diagnosis, and your life after. You can try to reconcile the two, but the younger you are at the time of your diagnosis, the more pockmarked and uncomfortable this reconciliation will ultimately be. How exactly it changes a survivor seems to vary person by person, as you might expect, and it’s more complicated than we think. We can find our lives on a completely new path, or maybe just an unexpected divergence that we finally have the confidence or fear or inspiration to tread; we can take the good and leave the bad behind, or vice versa.

Part of the reason why I’ve been determined to get an AYA (adolescent and young adult) cancer support group going at my local cancer center is that they don’t currently have any support for dealing with life after treatment (or anything AYA-specific, but that’s my other, main reason). I don’t think it’s a coincidence that both myself and an old coworker of mine each left our old job within a year after we each respectively finished cancer treatment. We reassessed and re-evaluated and ended up with new goals and priorities. That’s what being faced with your mortality will do.

And despite how unpleasant I seem to be making this sound, it’s certainly not all bad. I’m honestly, in many ways, the happiest I’ve ever been in these years after cancer, but it isn’t easy. Chiseling your life in two never is. But that’s why it makes for a good poem.

45 thoughts on “in the before and the after”

  1. A sad poem with somber mood, beautifully written as is the rest of your inspirational post. Learning through others that comebacks do occur post-trauma is invaluable.

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    1. Thank you for reading! I like that idea of a comeback: for me personally, it felt sort of like a cocoon or hibernation during treatment time. I emerged more cautious in many ways but also more spontaneous in others, and more empathetic and adaptable, too.

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      1. ❤ I suppose experience is wisdom, and there is confidence in that; thus, growth. Our experiences make us, no doubt.

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  5. This is a very good poem. I’m not a cancer survivor, but I recognise this splitting of before and after from another trauma. I think many will relate. It gave me a laugh to see that you’d “inhaled” a book! Also relatable.

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    1. Hah, thanks! Those darn interesting books are just calling out for inhalation 😅 I’m glad to see the splintering is relatable in other ways; I think there is a lot in common with different sorts of trauma.

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  7. Your story is a living Kintsugi: the Japanese art of putting something back together using gold– The piece becomes stronger and more beautiful because of it. Your poetry is a delight. Thanks for sharing. Love this. xoxo

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  8. I loved your poem. Cancer certainly changes ones view of time. I’m glad to hear you are doing well.
    I did laugh at your comment of inhaling books. Glad to know I’m not alone in that! Just another excuse to hang onto the book for a later slower read!

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  10. Sarah ~ this is such a beautiful, powerful, amazing poem. Just amazing.

    it is impossible to return to life as normal after cancer treatment. You now have two lives: your life before diagnosis, and your life after. You can try to reconcile the two, but the younger you are at the time of your diagnosis, the more pockmarked and uncomfortable this reconciliation will ultimately be.

    I totally get what you’re saying. Thank you for sharing this with us. I really appreciate having the privilege of reading your words.

    ❤
    David

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  13. Hi Sarah,

    “Expressing ourself fearlessly empower us.” This poem is such an example.

    You have tried…and you try…to give a ✨‘creative’ shape and direction to your sufferings.

    I call it creative but “these sufferings” are yours.
    They must have contributed in designing the person you’re today (You are beautiful!).

    Much love to the person who reads me and guides through the detailed comments.♥️

    On a positive note “you’re aware” of your present capability, interests and aim.

    Stay strong and wise.💪

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    1. Thanks, Lokesh. The sufferings we experience make us who we are. I am reading a book where the narrator is describing her cancer experience in her 20s, and she is very angry and frustrated in having to be so ill when everyone else is in the prime of their lives; after a time, that bitterness fades, and we realize that we can’t change the sufferings we’ve been through, but we can change the way we view our experience and the ways we treat ourselves and others. Suffering begets sorrow, but it can also build creativity and empathy.

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  18. Beautifully written from one who has the inside knowledge and the courage to stand up and say “I am here and I am different” I hope you can get a group going for adolescents and young adults…children even …cancer is different for everyone, as is surviving.
    As Mr Spock said, Live long and prosper. 😉💜💜💜💜

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    1. Thank you for your kind words! The local social worker at my clinic was able to work with me to set up a support group on the clinic campus; I’ll be running it once a month starting in October, and I’m really looking forward to it!

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