The Death Suite 8:
Opponent of Growth
From September 2024 onwards I had regular scans to check on
the progress of my tumour in the mesentery, and the development and subsequent
progress of any other tumours. I was feeling generally good until the summer,
when symptoms started to appear. A scan then showed that I did have small but
fast-growing tumours in my mesentery, abdominal wall, bowel, and lungs. That
fed into the decision – which concludes this section - to have palliative
chemotherapy from October 2025. That aims to shrink the tumours or, at least, slow
their growth, but cannot eliminate them entirely.
Numbered for reference when seeking images
Set aside the economy
my savings and relationships and knowledge and mind –
in the new language of growth,
I’m against it!
2
When someone I don’t
know
asks how I am,
I’m not sure whether to treat that as vatic
or land them with cancer straight off.
It’s easy for me
to tell Steph not to worry:
I won’t be around
to deal with what comes after.
It's one thing to
listen to time
another to know how best to respond
when you hear how loudly
it's ticking.
What’s the point of
learning things
if you’ll soon be gone?
It’s better than staying ignorant,
only to hang on.
Is it time to stop saving
for an old age I’m not going to get?
Or should I resist significant spend
on what is likely to prove short term?
7
I think I’ve had it
with ‘dying of cancer’:
time to move on
to the ‘living with’ phase.
I may be twelve years
younger than Trump
but I must be too old already
if the world is making the identical error
for a second time.
As we’re all doomed
setting aside any afterlives of quibble,
it doesn’t much matter
how the rest of this thought runs.
I’ve put on a few
pounds
but it’s hard to take dieting
all that seriously,
just to look better in the coffin.
What I resist
is trying so hard
not to be dead
that I leave no room for being alive.
According to the
surgeon
I am ‘several standard deviations from the norm’.
I have to remind Steph
that he’s talking about my health.
It seems I’ve survived
the first three spins.
Would I be good
at Russian Roulette?
I do not suffer from ‘scanxiety’
as our doctors terms the effect
on a life that hangs on images.
But that could be a pretence.
When the time comes
to fuck the future and live in the past
I will say nothing –
so that cannot be yet.
I might be tempted to
hit it
with money, but cancer –
to, I suppose, its credit -
isn’t so easy to bribe.
'Exist or otherwise'
may be the ultimate boiling down
of what we're here for -
if there is a what.
Is it easier to leave
than to be left behind?
So far as I know
neither require any effort.
Will he or won’t he?
Spoiler alert: he will.
I’m getting fed up
with wondering when.
I'm getting
ambitious
Two years back I'd have taken 68,
now I'm starting to wonder about 70.
Where will it end?
21
Do I want to know
what only the dead can?
That would be of interest,
but I think it can wait.
Could I get fed up
with having to tell people every three months
that the scans show no change?
Perhaps, but not yet…
I almost feel guilty
I keep meeting people
who suffer from cancer,
while I’m feeling good.
I was driving a car
but I couldn’t see anything
out of the windscreen.
That dream felt about right.
You only live once…
Twice if you count the period
after you’ve been diagnosed
with terminal cancer.
I never thought I'd
live to see
a second term of President Trump.
There's part of me
that wishes I had not.
I’m feeling normal
which doesn’t feel normal in my condition,
but I like how I’m feeling
and how the paradox sounds.
Perhaps I will have
time enough at last
right now, though,
I seem to be making
a rather-too-frenetic job of dying.
Having survived
four episodes of scanxiety,
is it time to hope
I might die ‘with’, instead of ‘of’?
Unless you count this
I haven’t thought about death
for several days.
Does that mean I won’t die?
Woody Allen
is famously against death.
I'm in favour,
but not until, say, 2058.
32
Now I have stomach ache
and a new form of hypochondria:
connecting every little thing
to cancer.
This is a dead letter day
Being the first on which
a medical communication
uses the term ‘palliative’.
When the Big C
meets that foreboding P
it doesn’t sound as good as, oddly enough,
I continue to feel.
I plan to defy
the medical terminal-ology
that would have me doomed.
I just need to work out how…
A world of
pain
and hunger pangs and sleeplessness
tells you what a good world is:
full of ease and rest.
If one in two gets
cancer
that sounds like a lot,
but one in one get death:
maybe that’s the way to go.
If there’s a moment
and location
to suit all events,
how do I calculate
the best time and place for death?
Ahead of the scan
result meeting
I imagine the death sentence:
‘I’m sorry to tell you
that there has been considerable growth.’
If I’ll soon be
‘quite dead at last’
as Beckett had it,
doesn’t that mean that I’m quite dead already,
it being no more than a matter of completing the process?
Is it time to start
behaving worse
so Steph doesn’t miss me?
Or would that just
contaminate her memories?
I do accept
that it’s simpler for me:
I won’t have to deal
with my absence.
‘Stuck in the middle
with you’
comes to mind
when the scan results indicate
how many tumours are stuck in the middle of me.
Tumours to the right
of me
tumours to the left of me…
To where
were the six hundred headed?
Steph doesn’t want me
to die
Whereas I want to live -
which isn’t quite as similar
as it sounds.
Is it true that if
you have one cancer
you can't get another?
I'm keen on advantages
but no, that isn't one.
Do you want to know full details
of my bowel movements?
What am I talking about?
I don’t want to
know full details of my bowel movements.
‘May the illness’
I am wished, ‘pass soon’.
But the only way that’s going to happen
is by passing soon myself.
I won’t get down
before I die
apart from getting these thoughts down -
on the grounds that, post-demise,
they won’t be very easy to record.
If you’re going to
die -
and I’ve heard the stats
are overwhelming -
you might as well make the most of it.
51
Never mind my last words
I can predict those,
even if I’m wrong.
What will be the first words I can’t hear?
Perhaps
too weak to tell them they are wrong
I’ll even hear the question
‘has he gone?’
Does an afterlife
make any sense?
If not, I'll have none of it:
I wouldn’t be seen dead
existing outside logic.
It seems this chemo
isn't a matter of life and death,
only of its timing –
although, I suppose, that is the matter.
Madame de Defland was
so scared of death
she wished that she’d never been born.
But isn’t post mortem
the exact same state?
I’m not petrified of
death
but, I suppose,
am happy to be petrified afterwards
if I haven’t already been burned.
Do you want proof
that our natural state
is not immortal?
Dying is a skill that needs no practice.
It must be time
for a corny cancer love poem:
my wife has a PICC line
to my heart.
Notes:
‘It’s easy for me’ – Steph is my wonderfully supportive wife.
‘It's one thing to listen to time’ - written just prior to
hearing the results from my scan on 11 Sept 2024 – this and the following two
quatrains are probably down to ‘scanxiety’
‘I think I’ve had it’ – in fact, no further growth was
revealed.
‘I may be twelve years younger than Trump’ - Donald Trump
was re-elected US President on 5 November 2024
‘According to the surgeon’ - I had a follow-up appointment
with Mr West on 10 December, and he was very positive about how my health was
going)
‘It seems I’ve survived’ – those three spins being sepsis
and my two operations
‘I never thought I'd live to see’ - Donald Trump was
inaugurated as President on 20 Jan 2025
‘I’m feeling normal’ – as of 27 February 2025, a feeling
that lasted a few months.
‘This is a dead letter day’ - as in a letter from Dr Rees to
my GP, but copied to me on 10 June 2025)
‘Steph doesn’t want me to die’ - Those different emphases
fed into our joint decision-making for when to start chemo to slow things down.
Start too early, and you may miss out on a period when you could have been
living well; start too late, and you might be too weak to tolerate the chemo
that would have extended your life. It’s a tricky call.
This and the following poems stem from my diagnosis update in
July 2025: four areas of tumour big enough to show up on the scan, three of
them new, but increasing slowly. I have been having some symptoms – extra
tiredness, stomach aches, back ache, bowel irregularities – but not yet bad
enough to require palliative chemotherapy. Consequently, the decision to strat
chemo followed on from the next scan, six weeks later.
‘It seems this chemo’ / ‘It must be time’ – My palliative
chemo started in October 2025, for which I was fitted with a PICC line – a Peripherally
Inserted Central Catheter is a long, thin, flexible tube inserted into a vein
in the upper arm and advanced until its tip rests in a large vein just above
the heart. It is used to deliver the drugs for long-term intravenous treatments.
References:
‘Madame de Defland was so scared of death’ - Marie
Anne de Vichy-Chamrond, Marquise du Deffand (1696 -1780) was a French
hostess and patron of the arts, famous for the literary quality of her letters,
and her close friendships with such as Voltaire and Walpole.
‘Tumours to the right of me’ - ‘Into the valley of Death / Rode the six hundred’ according to Tennyson’s ‘The Charge of the Light Brigade’, 1854
‘If I’ll soon be ‘quite dead at last’’ quotes the first line
in Samuel Beckett's novel Malone Dies, 1951: ‘I shall soon be quite dead at
last in spite of all’
‘You only live once’ - Ian Fleming: ‘You Only Live Twice’, 1964
A world of pain: effectively references Maslow’s hierarchy
of needs, 1943. Hunger pangs even when I’d just eaten were a curious symptom at
this stage.
‘Stuck in the middle with you’ is the title of a song by Stealers
Wheel, 1973
‘What I resist’ may be an echo of ‘I was trying so hard to
be myself I was turning into somebody else’ from ‘Out of the Blue (Into the
Fire)’ by The The, 1986
‘Perhaps I will have time enough at last’ - The Fall: ‘Time
Enough at Last’ 2003
‘Is it easier to leave’ - this popular sentiment is, for
example, a line in REM’s song ‘Leaving New York’, 2004
'Woody Allen' - his summary in 2010 of decades of deadpan negative views was: 'My relationship with death remains the same: I'm strongly against it.'

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