Sometimes You Have to Laugh...
a poet's look at cancer
by Marilyn Stacy
For discounted price on multiple purchases of this book, please contact me directly at:
dallasstacy@sbcglobal.net
See sample reviews and poems below:
from the author:
It's not a new idea that difficult times can often be used as a springboard for something better. The Chinese term, wei ji means crisis, and is made up of two symbols, those for danger and opportunity. As a counselor, I hoped to use my own crisis as an opportunity to help others in some way. This book is one result of that wish. May it lead to a smoother journey for all who share with me the twists and turns of the "cancer train."
Texas Poet Laureate Alan Birkelbach says about the book: "...Her words, full of optimism and hope, will speak to not only the person afflicted with the disease--but also to anyone associated with those people: the doctors, the families, the friends. Marilyn lets us know we do not have to suffer alone and she tells us we can all be survivors...a book that will inspire and give hope. It ends up belonging to everyone involved in the cancer battle. It will enlighten you, embrace you, and lift you up."
From the Book:
If Life Really is a Stage
This wasn't in the script, Doc. Or did I miss
a line when I signed up for this role?
No, see, right here. We agreed.
I'm the healthy woman, helping others not as strong.
That cancer clearly missed its target
when it tucked itself under my left arm.
Wish I could pass on this part, let it go,
label it a computer glitch, or a hiccup
in the third act of a new play on the road.
Then we could skip rehearsals, forego further
investigation of every nook and cranny
of cells, skin, blood and bones.
If you gave me a rewrite, I could pass
on needles that bruise, surgeries,
chemotherapy days and radical radiation.
But since I am stuck on the cancer train
for a road-show ride across the hinterlands,
you can be sure I'll study my part, learn my role.
Nuclear scan today? Radiation? Stay away
from my grandbaby for eight hours after?
Right. When I get home, I'll just go outside,
walk around the back yard for awhile
and zap all the bugs in the garden.
This script is obviously a comedy.
Losses Thank You, Funky Winkerbean
Troubles lurk in hidden places. Yes, I know she died,
Everybody knows it but reading about Lisa's journey
but nobody expects it to find them. as she moved through breast cancer
Conversations dwindle to nothing in the comic strip
when you tell friends informed and inspired me,
you have breast cancer. helped me understand,
and even laugh at,
Modesty disappears chemo brain
somewhere in the MRI machine when it reared its ugly...
or under the bone scanner.
something or other
And at an age when you're finally in the middle of a class
at peace with your hair, it deserts you-- I was teaching.
a chemotherapy dropout.
...(But we don't always have to be brave and noble, do we?)
from page 50:
I am rarely depressed, but on one especially bad day I had a clutch of fear that I would never get better (though logically I knew I would). I asked my husband to remind me that I would feel better soon. It may not have made sense, but you do not have to be logical. Ask for what you want and need.
And...I am nothing if not optimistic:
Fuzz
Control
Soft white fuzz
is growing on my head. I've got the power now,
I cheer it on, sitting in the old blue lounge chair,
massage my scalp holding a steamy cup
and wonder when of orange zinger tea,
the fuzz with all three TV/VCR remotes
will be long enough and the portable phone
to insultate and protect in my lap.
my bare head, What more could a modern
when I'll look like a woman again, woman ask?
not a futuristic extra-terrestrial.
Next month I can finally fly
to visit my new great-granddaughter
for the first time.I'm told the fuzz
on her head is light brown.
A snapshot shows her
wearing the same kind of soft,
pink knit cap I wear to bed.
I know we'll bond.