Last Friday I had a planning meeting for radiotherapy, and a walk across London on a sunny day.  The cancer centre at Guy’s is clean and efficient; the staff are very young, but kind and clear.  They want to know what happened in Zurich in 2005, I’m not sure we will ever know, yet the tattoos are apparently mostly still quite visible -they draw new markers to be sure.  I email the old University hospital, my oncologist email bounces back -it was long long ago!

So I lie down, on my back, with my arms above my head, proving I can hold my breath for 30 seconds, whilst that machine spins.

What is this

Shiny,

Brave new world?

Sun streaming in,

My limbs

Up-curled.

Sometimes 

I shut my eyes

To pray,

An electric

Pause in,

My working day.

I’m posed

And pinned,

And breathing hollow,

They go outside,

Where I won’t

Follow.

These silent rays,

Could give me

Days;

It’s all the odds

we have

She says.

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