by Anton Wills-Eve
I’m having another biopsy later this week.
The surgeon tells me he just needs a peek
In my bladder, you should hear him insist.
He fears my cancer has spread to the cyst
That a scan has revealed, ok he said “shown”.
In my urethra a malignant tumour has grown.
It was my turn to insist, replying to his gloom,
“But already I have three cancers and no more room
For your surgery, chemo, injections and drips.
You know my spine’s a mess and think of my hips!”
But doctors know best and he’s afraid that I’ll die,
If I don’t let him stick a tube in me so he can eye
My urinary tract. And then it’ll be his turn to insist
That my name is placed on his next operating list.
All these investigations, will hopefully make sure
I will still be alive, though my quality of life poor.
In three days’ time I must decide, ‘should I undergo
Surgery, to save or kill me, but which they don’t know.’
So I‘ve made my decision, and on this I really do INSIST,
I trust by my family and friends, I hope, I’ll be missed.
But my faith in God’s eternal love, so strong all my days,
Will insure my last words to Him will be prayers of praise.
And on ‘judgement day’, before Him, the joy I shall see,
When I die, will lead to purgatory and then Heaven for me.