Sean’s Burgundy Thread: Myeloma In 17 Syllables
As I first began the several rounds of chemotherapy for multiple myeloma back in December of 2008, I decided to help combat the effects of chemo brain by working on word and number puzzles and by scribbling my thoughts down into a journal.
Did it work? I don’t know, but it helped to keep my mind occupied and away from the encroaching sadness of fighting cancer far away from my home and my kids as the holidays approached.
One of the exercises that I enjoyed most was writing short forms of Japanese poetry called haiku and senryu – in English, of course. Trust me; it’s not as highfalutin as it sounds. Grade school students do it.
Haiku normally focuses on nature for its topics, and senryu deals with people and their situations in life.
Both simple forms consist of only three lines with the first line containing five syllables, the second line seven syllables, and the third line five syllables. Each poem has 17 syllables in total. They don’t have to rhyme and they can be serious, poignant, humorous, or silly, whatever you want. They are fairly easy to write and can be quite therapeutic.
Now in the best of times I am far from being a good poet – and, yes, I know it! – but myeloma didn’t stop me from trying my hand at it. Following are some examples of my myeloma-flavored senryu. It helps to be a multiple myeloma insider to fully grasp some of them:
It is true that I
Am an impatient patient
We need a cure NOW
Myelomaville
The folks are nice, but it is
So expensive there
My pesky backache
Turned out to be so much worse
I want my life back
Dexamethasone
Yes it keeps me up all hours
But the house is CLEAN!
Monoclonal what?
Plasma B cell cancer, huh?
Speak my language, please!
Collapsed vertebrae
After three kyphoplasties
I can walk again!
What would you do Doc?
Let’s pretend that I’m your dad
Transplant: Yes or No?
Blood clots are quite rude
They vacation in my lungs
I must evict them
Dad, you look good bald
Maybe not good, but okay
Do you have a hat?
IgG is high
Sing those Myeloma Blues
Kappa light chains, too
Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! BEEP!
Gonna’ throw this chemo pump
The nurse foils my crime
More than caregiver
She and God KNOW my struggles
Brave when I am not
For once and for all
I don’t have MELANOMA
YOU have hearing loss
The definition
Of a most noble calling
Lives in one word: Nurse
She looks up at me
And asks ‘Daddy, will you die?’
I squeeze back my tears
M. V. D. T. PACE
My chemo alphabet friends
I love AND hate you
Dear myeloma:
Fever, nausea, and pain
Bad birthday gifts, dude
We met in chemo
‘Are we having fun?’ you laughed
And now you are gone
Waiting for results
They say no news is good news
‘They’ don’t have a clue
I heard Karen cry
When she was out in the hall
Please give her peace, Lord
For me it’s quite odd
To not have an appetite
Chemo trumps pizza
Central Venous Line
A fancy-shmancy necktie
That you hate to wear
Stem Cell Transplant Club
The dues are extremely high
And you smell like corn
Okay, I have to stop you here. I want to explain this one. During and after the stem cell transplant, dimethyl sulfoxide (DMSO), the chemical preserving agent in which stem cells are stored, may cause the patient’s body to smell like canned corn or corn chips or something similar. My wife could smell it on me for a couple of days, but I could not. Weird - yes? Sorry for the interruption.
I miss talking with
The Revlimid surveyor
Tell her I said ‘Hi’
Why did I do it?
It used to be the Devil
Now I blame the dex
Daddy, I’m worried
You’ll be in Little Rock, right?
Can Santa find you?
I could go on, but I won’t. Writing these kinds of poems truly is a worthwhile creative pursuit. I would love to read some of your efforts. Remember: 5-7-5! Give it a shot!
Seven years have flown
So grateful to still be here
Even on bad days
My wish for us all
Peace on Earth, Good Will to Men
May we find a cure!
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 .
Just excellent! Thank you for this pre-Christmas gift. You got it just right. Barbarah
Very interesting column. I enjoyed the poems and can relate to some of them.
My nose tingles
Revlimid side effects
On Christmas jingles
My nose crinkles
As all the Christmas jingles
Crush into my head
My heart melts seeing
Bald, brave Saint Jude kids
Courageous small kids
Happy Christmas all
Thanks all brave columnists
Beacon staff support
Thank you for sharing your unique style of poetry. As a caregiver to my husband for the past 8 years I can relate to much of what you wrote. I'm sorry but I had to chuckle when I read the verse about the smell of corn. How well I remember that smell when living in The Gift of Life Transplant House in Rochester, MN (Mayo Clinic). Funny how you can find humor in terrible times. Thanks Sean Murray for your column and for sharing your poetry.
It's been eight long years
There's been good, bad, and ugly
That's how we roll here
Thanks Light Chain Disease,
Kidneys died 4 years ago
Dialysis sucks!
Happy Holidays
Cycle two of Revlimid
Done on Christmas Eve
Ring in the New Year
Planning trip to Little Rock
Second transplant soon?
Others suffer more
We'll survive this once again
This is how we live
God bless everyone
And Merry Christmas to all
Praying for a cure!
Sean, awesome column
But downside for me – can't sleep
Thinking of haikus
Seven syllables?
Multiple myeloma
That's convenient
Love-hate Revlimid
Explosive diarrhea
But keeps M-spike low
Love it!
Here is a try, although luckily I don't think these senryu need to rhyme?
Thanks Sean for the verse
We can write to our friends who
Understand our scene.
The online support
Of the Beacon readership
Makes the season bright!
Great posting Sean! I love the haikus and now I am afaid I am talking to my husband in haiku. He can totally relate to quite a few of yours.
My long lost cousin
Inspiration from afar
Admired by all
Wonderful, thank you.
Sean,
Now look what you've started ... My attempt:
Do not know what was,
Not thinking of what will be.
Like being here now.
Thanks Sean,
Frank
The 5 Days of Christmas, Velcade / Dex Style
On the first day of Christmas, dex gave me, continual facial flushing!
On the second day of Christmas, dex gave to me, about 2 hours of sleep!
On the third day of Christmas, dex gave to me, 3 hours of energy!!
On the fourth day of Christmas, Velcade gave to me, 4 days of constipation!
On the fifth day of Christmas, Velcade gave to me, burning, itching, crawling, numbness, tingling.
Merry Christmas everyone! Thoughts and prayers go out to you all!
Jim
Progress toward fundraising goal
for all of 2020:
15%
For more information, see the Beacon's
"2020 Fundraising: Goals And Updates" page