The Twelve Days of Cancer

To the tune of Natalie Cole’s rendition of “The Twelve Days of Christmas”…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9j5-SWXKhbM


On the first day of cancer,
I had a biopsy
One’s welcome to oncology.

On the second day of cancer,
My doctor gave to me
Onc referrals,
And the report on biopsy.

On the third day of cancer,
My surgeon gave to me
Lymph node scans,
Flimsy blue gowns,
And more fun with oncology.

On the fourth day of cancer,
My surgeon worked on me
Tumor removed,
Lymph node tests,
More referrals,
And more time with oncology

On the fifth day of cancer,
My onc docs gave to me
Five toxic things!
More Ativan,
Ultrasound,
Bad CT scan,
And they say that I’m now at IIIc.

On the sixth day of cancer,
My nurses threatened me
Chaplain’s a-praying,
Five toxic things!
Forms of restraint,
Free Zofran,
Two Code Blue bells,
And more time in oncology.

On the seventh day of cancer,
My onc docs said to me
Black C’s not a-winning,
Still cause for praying,
Five toxic things!
More scary words,
Three-month scans,
Insurance claims,
And more time with oncology.

On the eighth day of cancer,
My surgeon cut from me
Nerve tumor lurking,
Black C not in this thing,
Answer to praying,
Five toxic things!
More pain killers,
Still more scans,
Insurance paid,
And less time with oncology.

On the ninth day of cancer,
My surgeon said to me
Time to be glowing,
That things a-growing,
Radiation’s spinning,
More time for praying,
Five proton hits!
More swelling hurts,
Steroids then,
Insurance balks,
And radiation works for me.

On the tenth day of cancer,
My onc doc said to me
This trial’s a-winning,
Time to be dancing,
Beat odds of living,
Melanoma’s reeling,
Still time for praying,
Five years of Spring!
More six-month checks,
Clear brain scan,
I’m show-and-tell,
And embroidered gown is for me.

On the eleventh day of cancer,
My onc doc said to me
You’ve become very boring,
This trial’s a-winning,
Time for more dancing,
Ipi’s approving,
Zelboraf’s the new thing,
Still keep on praying,
Live is my thing!
More six-month checks,
No brain left,
Insurance stays,
And still stuck in oncology.

On the twelfth day of Christmas,
Please hear this patient’s plea
No scanners drumming,
MRI’s still not my thing,
No cancer creeping,
No nurses threat’ning,
No days infusing,
No more scans a-glowing,
I’ll keep on praying,
Life’s golden ring!
No CT scans,
No Zofran,
Insurance pays,
And the docs say I’m still NED!