"The universe has no malice, but neither has it mercy."
                             --Robert C.W. Ettinger, Man Into Superman

"I'm a loser."
--John Lennon, a lryic from a song of the same name

Yet another doctor has spoken,
And after speaking left my heart broken,
Yet again.
I almost wish I were guilty of some grievous great sin;
Then I might understand, a little, why
I have to have this cancer and sooner die
Than my limit of natural age.
But yet another doctor has confirmed for me
That this cancer is going to kill me,
Sooner or later,
Eventually.
The doctors only differ in how long they think it will take.
So, break, heart, break!
Ache and weep for the light of life that I must lose.
One to three years, says one; five, says another; eight, nine, ten--
Maybe more?  Maybe less?--
Or maybe a year, or less or a bit more, without the terrible treatments.
For the treatments are themselves torture and mutilation,
So terrible I may well lose my love of life,
Before I lose my life.
"The universe has no malice, but neither has it mercy."
So Ettinger wrote, who once promised me physical immortality--
Which now seems so very far from me.
Even a full natural life span now seems an impossibility.
So what should I choose?
Around a year, or--stretching hope past any promise--perhaps two,
Of being a man and remaining a male,
Living life brief but whole and full,
Enjoying love and pleasure:
Soon slain by horrible pain and hideous death.
Or let them take away my maleness, and my very soul emasculate,
In return for a possible few more years,
Burned into my mutilated mind and body with bitter tears.
And then in the end, anyway,
To die the death of cancer torture--
In pain and fear to pass away.
Hey, John Lennon, I'm a real loser here!  I, who loved you and wept for you.
I don't know what I'm going to do.
My living heart is a fly struggling in a web,
And I see the spider racing up the web toward me.
I'm a loser, true.
In pain, I plunder my mind for happy memory;
And, among many treasures, I remember my Beatles.
How many times, John Lennon, have I sung your words along with you?
Now the question cuts its way out of my heart and screams to the falling sky:
What have I done to deserve such a fate?

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--Written by Michael LP
aka MLP, aka Mr. Poet, aka PoetWithCancer, aka PWC
(I'm just me)
Copyright © 2010 by M.L.P.  All rights reserved