Sean’s Burgundy Thread: ‘Twas The First Day Of Chemo
It was in December of 2008, six short years ago, that I first began infusion treatments in my madcap battle against multiple myeloma.
Diagnosed at Thanksgiving, I spent Christmas and the better part of the next nine months in Arkansas, several hours away from my home, wife, and young children.
In the spirit of the holidays, and with my sincere – for the most part – apologies to Clement Clarke Moore, author of ‘The Night Before Christmas,’ I offer the following silliness:
‘Twas The First Day Of Chemo
‘Twas my first day of chemo
And I and my spouse
Were waiting for drugs
Supposedly used on a mouse
My m-spike was high
But with quality care
We had hopes that remission
Soon would be there
I comfortably nestled
On an overstuffed recliner
Putting on a brave face
I shushed my inner-whiner
While my wife played Sudoku
I was in deep thought
Contemplating what could come next
In this mysterious medical plot
When out on the clinic floor
There arose such a clatter
I peeked ‘cross the room
To see what the heck was the matter
It was then that I witnessed
The most curious effects
Of a group full of people
Hyped up on dex
Their voices were LOUD
Their manners aggressive
They were dexterously corralled
By a staff most impressive
When the ruckus finally settled
My head turned around
As a striking young nurse
Marched in with a bound
She was dressed all in red
From her head to her shoes
Her comrades-in-arms
Modeled pinks, greens, and blues
On the cart which she pushed
I spied needles and vials
Conjuring visions of woozy Seans
Fainting in aisles
Her eyes how they twinkled
But in mine she saw worry
‘Now don’t be afraid’
‘I got your back, Mr. Murray’
She went on to describe
Just how long she had nursed
As an oncology professional
She was myelomically well-versed
Then what to my wondering
Peepers should appear
A miniature list of eight drugs
Their pronunciations unclear
It was held by a man
A name sewn on his smock
I knew in an instant
That he must be the Doc
His tongue-twisting words
From practiced lips came
He spittled and sputtered
And called them by name:
‘Now melphalan, now Velcade,
now dex and thalidomide
On cisplatin, on doxorubicin,
Cytoxan and etoposide’
He cursed my myeloma
Saying it stubbornly resides
And promised that therapy
Will totally attack where it hides
‘So push on blood sailors
Fight hard soldiering pills
Let’s vanquish this beast
We shall ease this man’s ills’
After hearing his passion
I would confidently wager
That along with Medicine
He had a Theatre double-major
And then in a twinkling
With a less dramatic flair
He looked at my head saying
'Don’t get attached to your hair'
'Lament not your lost locks
Don’t look so appalled
A kerchief or a winter’s cap
Is my prescription for bald'
'I know that your bones break
That your energy is low
The MRIs show lesions
Your PET scan’s aglow'
'We’ve looked at your blood work
And biopsied your hip
There’s no time like the present
To begin your first drip'
With a nod to the nurse
And a wink of his eye
My treatment commenced
He waved his goodbye
I heard him exclaim
As he dashed out of sight
'Happy Holidays to all
Keep up the Good Fight!'
Well, maybe it didn’t happen exactly that way, but my nurses are like angels on Earth and my doctors are passionate and bigger-than-life and, boy, can they rattle off a fancy list of drugs and diseases like nobody’s business.
But one of the most endearing qualities that they share with me is that they hate multiple myeloma.
Wherever you are in your myeloma journey, I pray that you are with loved ones and that you have found a medical team committed to leaving no stone unturned in the pursuit of making you well.
Warm wishes to all of you out in Myelomaville for Peace, and Happy Holidays, and for a Healthy year ahead!
Sean Murray is a multiple myeloma patient and columnist at The Myeloma Beacon. You can view a list of his columns here.
If you are interested in writing a regular column to be published by The Myeloma Beacon, please contact the Beacon team at .
Wonderful column, Sean. Thank you!
Is it just a coincidence that your column with a poem was published the same day that gardengirl posted a poem ("Oh, the things you can do during dex night") in the forum?
I think these are the first poems I've seen here at the Beacon, so of course I'm wondering how that happened.
Happy holidays to all and best wishes for the New Year!
This is awesome. Put a smile on my face. Thank you
Merry Christmas to you Sean, and may the good Lord bless us all in Myelomaville.
Sean,
I've enjoyed your columns since learning of The Beacon almost 3 years ago and have always gotten something from them. What a talent to be able to write poetically as well! Great column!!
Steve
Made me smile - Thanks Sean
Aloha Sean,
That was AWESOME! I am very impressed. This should be in every oncologist's office in the country. I will be bringing it to mine tomorrow.
Merry Christmas!!
Tom
Sean, this is tremendous!
Best wishes for happy holidays and a healthy 2015!
Mike
Thank you so much, Sean, for the wonderful poem. Tho I must confess it gave me great tears! But, when the crying was over, and because it hit home so well, the laughter came. Thank you for this wonderful gift this Christmas season. May we all have peace and healing in 2015.
First time I read poetry on MM and it is interesting ... different. Let us battle with hope, courage, and cheer in the New Year.
Thank you for this funny poem about the treatment and experience of such a horrific disease. I especially like the part about the people on dex. My husband was diagnosed in 2007. I remember those dex days and nights so very well. I told the doctor if there were ever anymore dex treatments that I would need some too! I wish all patients and family members in Myelomaville the best Christmas they can have and a Healthy and Happy New Year! Keep up the good work Sean. I love reading your articles.
Hahaha! Marvellous!
'Now melphalan, now Velcade,
now dex and thalidomide
On cisplatin, on doxorubicin,
Cytoxan and etoposide’
Yes, do the job, save us all! Who cares about Donner and Blitzen!
Thank you Sean, it gave me a good laugh. And your sense of rhythm (metre) is excellent!
Oh little town in cancerland
How still we see thee try
Above the weep and restless sleep
The quiet hopes arrive
Yet in the dark room shining
The ever present team
Their hopes and dreams of a vaccine
Are strengthening alright
For faith was born of blessings
And gathered by research
While patients sleep the nurses keep
Their watch of tender care
Oh doctors all together
Review the test results
And say the words we're praying
Remission for us all
This is priceless! Thanks for the chuckle! Merry Christmas!
Thanks, Sean, for a great column and rendition of The Night Before Christmas. I think you should consider writing more songs too. How about 'Myeloma: The Musical'? Hope you have a wonderful holiday season!
This and all the comments made me smile!
Thanks Sean, you have brought smiles and laughter to many of us! Keep at it, you are good. Thanks to all the other columnists too, you are all doing great in bring cheer.
Holy cow! Thanks so much for the gift of laughter Sean!! That was hilarious!! I will be taking it to my next onc appointment for sure! Merry Christmas and an awesome New Year to you and your family!
Sean,
That was so good and cute! Sometimes it feels that we are living in a Grimm fairy tale with multiple myeloma!
Wishing you and yours strength, health, and happiness!
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to you all! See you in the New Year!
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