56 POEM: Radiation on a Rainy Day

It drives me nuts how the blog doesn't preserve the formatting of my poetry. Every other line is supposed to be indented to make it easier to read and to separate the images. I have tried inserting spaces to manually create the indentations and the blog software keeps ignoring them. So just pretend it looks pretty, okay? --Angela



Radiation on a Rainy Day


Lazy summer rain kisses pavement
as I walk from car to gantry.
I know where shade on any other day
will have wandered by the time I leave.

Enslaved in the ritual, I brave the rain
to enter a room bathed in shadows.
Soft lights, gentle music, and hard science await
with a table on rails and monstrous equipment.

Today’s technicians position my body carefully,
referencing doctor’s orders.
They retreat behind thick walls. Watching. Listening.
Exposed, I cannot hide. I must lie very, very still.

The gantry responds with alien grace to computer programs
tailored to my body, my shape, my former privacy.
A buzzer warns of piercing rays and I lie very, very still,
imagining the day when I can leave and stay away.

Free at last – until tomorrow – I chuckle at people
hurrying through cold rain to my exit.
Last year I’d have sported an umbrella, knowing full well
hair would wilt despite ample gel and spray.

A smile shines behind my eyes because velvet fuzz
has grown into baby fine softness, half an inch long.
Too short to style, this is a different kind of freedom.
No need to hurry or worry about umbrellas today.

Instead, I slip through the falling sky towards my car,
naked face upturned, defiance and acceptance dancing through my thoughts.
A moment of optimism catches me and with moisture in my eyes
I finally sense a glimpse of sunshine to come.



Written by Angela Patterson
Copyright Angela Patterson 2007


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55 E-mail: April mammogram

Sunday, April 29, 2007

I had a mammogram on April 10. April is my annual spot on the calendar from now on to get my digital mammograms. I went back to the facility at St. David’s and once again had a good experience with the sensitivity and kindness of their staff and the effectiveness of their equipment.

There was “nothing suspicious” to spur further investigation, and my radiologist’s written report says “normal” so I can breathe a sigh of relief. I never thought it could feel so good to be normal. I didn’t even know how stressed and worried I was that there would be bad news until I let out the figurative breath I’d been holding.

So for my one-year mammogram after cancer, I appear to still be cancer free. Hooray!

The radiologist recommends I return in six months to take another shot of the breast that had cancer. This is normal and in line with what they did last year.

So the question becomes, how many of you are 40 or older and haven’t gone for your annual mammogram in longer than a year? For you men, how many of your wives or partners have put off getting a mammogram? Yeah it’s inconvenient and uncomfortable, but the discomfort only lasts a few moments per image and it’s less invasive than a pap smear. I know a handful of women who told me during my treatment days that they were inspired by my experience to get their mammograms done. Now I’m the little sister wagging her finger. Take care of your health, loved ones, even if it involves discomfort and inconvenience. It’s worth it.

Love,
Angela

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