He was told to go to the ER
something about blood platelets
He thinks he’ll be in an out
after a six hour wait
The doctors have different ideas
and admit him
He can’t believe he’s being
confined to a hospital bed
But he quickly adapts to it
and wonders what’s next
After a few days and a
series of tests
He’s released with a
blood cancer diagnosis
He had thought
he’d never
get cancer
He thought he was safe
and didn’t have to
worry about it
He didn’t smoke, drink,
do drugs, or eat red meat
and had no cancer in
his family
But cancer didn’t care
about all that
It claimed him anyway
and tried to take
his life
Weeks and months
of blood tests and
transfusions
Not a problem for him
surprisingly
maybe, miraculously,
he just didn’t care
He didn’t worry about
it killing him
He accepted
his possible
termination
like an even-minded
unfazed stoic
And maybe the cancer
gave up on him
because his indifference
Took the joy, the fun,
and the steam out of
trying to kill him
The reaper
dressed in his
flowing
black hooded robe
Reluctantly
lowered
his scythe
and said I’ll
be back another day
Bob Boyd