This was written the day before The Third Day Reckoning, or day number two post op. This poem pretty much sums up my fears of the worst and the terribly down state of mind I was at that time. Funny how cancer can do that to you.
Reflections November 7, 1982
Laying here a-thinkin' in my hospital bed
Knowin' I'd rather be here that I would be dead.
Friends and family visit, especially my wife,
And they help to make me know, that I've led a good life.
The fears that I've had, have been morbid and real
As I wait looking forward to yet another liquid meal.
The visits calm my nerves, the shots ease my pain,
Yet the fears and the worry keep invading my brain.
I'm afraid that this cancer might shorten my years,
And could my smoking have caused this, or was it just too many beers?
My life seems too valuable to just smoke it all away
And I believe I'll just kick this nasty habit someday.
Dear Lord, help me I ask, help me as you please
And rid my young body of this malignant disease.
All my life lies ahead and I'm going to grab it
And to hell with this cancer, 'cause the doctor done stabbed it!
