My friend Rolain
was just diagnosed with
breast cancer and will
have a mastectomy next week.
She said she thought she
escaped this one although
eight in a three block area
around her have been stricken.
I had my turn in 2002.
We are downwinders from
the bombs let off at the
Nevada test sight.
Dirty Harry was 7 times
stronger than the one dropped
on Hiroshima...but we were assured
we were fine. We ran outside
to watch the bomb cloud rise and spread.
No one warned that we might want
to run and hide.
Since radiation for my breast cancer
the cancer toll for southern utah
has tripled. We expect to hear
of another friend every day.
We are on the edge of death's precipice
and we struggle to stick around
as we are seared by radiation
and frozen by chemo.
Many survive a little longer than
the ones before us.
My sister LaRae did not.
Rolain has joined The Pink Pals
one more trying to survive.
I can lend her my 'cancer hats'
and ratty wig but she is a
hairdresser and will find the best
as she waits to be cancer-free.
We, who have survived,
are never quite sure
we really have.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
I am so sorry to hear about Rolaine. This is going to be hard for her. I love your poem.
ReplyDeleteAlways a chilling thing to hear, but she said she and Lincoln went out to watch the big cloud rising above the desert not realizing how the fallout would take its toll on her body in time, robbing her of comfort in old age and perhaps years off her life. Everytime I think of how blase they were about the risks I get mad. Poor Downwinders. I don't know where I was but not in southern Utah.
ReplyDeleteYour poem and picture is great Ann. Maybe you should print this blog out and mail it to Rolain. She is being brave but facing a huge difficulty, even if it turns out the possible way it can. It's like you aay, you never feel absolutely sure all is well. We are indeed vulnerable. I would love to see Rolain have a peacful and contented old age, enjoying her kids and grandkida.
ReplyDelete