I’m sitting on the table
And the doctor looks at me
The biopsies are back,
And you do have the big C.
He does not tell me what to do
As he would have long ago.
The options are laid out
And I must choose the row to hoe.
The surgeon is a lovely man
I really fancy him
(one has to find some pleasure
if the prospects may be grim)
I tell him what is on my mind
For I am well endowed.
Will I keel over to the right?
Will I be really bowed?
He says balance is a problem
With one as big as you,
So instead of taking one,
Maybe we’ll take the two.
I say that sounds so drastic
For a lump you say is small
I think I’ll take the chip away route
And hope you get it all
Three O.R. visits later
The margins are now clear
They say “we think you’re cured
And there’s little left to fear”.
So now I am lopsided
One huge and one a B
But I am here and Healthy
So that’s OK with me.