Writing Through Cancer

Cancer: In Our Words
Writing from the Stanford Cancer Center

The Stanford Cancer Supportive Care Program at the Stanford Cancer Center, Palo Alto, CA, has offered "Writing Through Cancer" workshops since 2005. We meet year round, on the first Wednesday of each month, from 2 p.m. until 5 p.m. The workshops are open to any man or woman recently diagnosed with cancer as well as primary caretakers of a cancer patient. Join us at any of our monthly meetings.

To learn more about the writing program at Stanford Cancer Center, contact Holly Gautier, hgautier@stanfordmed.org or click here: http://cancer.stanfordhospital.com/forPatients/services/supportiveCareServices/actWordsThatHeal.

Our Writers at the Stanford Cancer Center not only write and share their stories. They have turned their experiences into advocacy, publications and keynote speeches. Jasan Zimmerman, a cancer survivor and member of the Stanford writing group, recently gave the keynote speech at the ACS Relay for Life in Silicon Valley, CA. Have a look--you'll be inspired.

Cancer Journey
By John Fiore

Travel light but prepare for bad weather.
Learn as much of the language as you can.
Allow for serendipity.
Listen to the guides, they can save you.
The local foods are different, try them;
however, be wary of local fruits and vegetables that are uncooked.
If you feel nauseous on your journey, tell yourself you are hungry.
Get some sun to reset your clock.
Appreciate all forms of beauty.
Smile at the locals.
Don’t be afraid to look silly; laugh at yourself.
Have a meditative place to go in your mind, when in pain or discomfort.
Say hello to that person in the mirror, you will travel together.
Enjoy the uniqueness of your trip, foreign rooms, beds, foods, sounds and people.
You will lose things along the way; they weren’t important.
Stick to your core values of honesty, open-mindedness and willingness.
Cherish the ones you cherish.
Be aware of your emotional state.
Send some postcards home.
Listen more, talk less.
Enjoy each day as best you can.
Say thank you.
Remember, this too shall pass.

Hospital
By Ann Emerson

For Leslie

Sometimes a visitor like light in
a forest: mostly single patients in
thin beds--in their eyes melancholy
like a worn pair of shoes walking
the wilderness. Tonight, when
cold oxygen revives me from the
faint of sleep I remember you
yesterday, entering this room,
tender forsythia.

This evening, when words return with
the wind bringing clouds I think of
those others awake and living without
religion too, each a candle in a window
and the two of us lighting them,
here in this darkness, here
from beginning to end.

Forgetting
By Donna Neal

I forgot to worry …
Only to be jolted by a rush of adrenaline.
I forgot everything else.
Panic hit.
Tendrils of worry permeated my entire being.
Once again
I have to remember
to breathe
how to breathe
belly breathe
Do something to occupy my mind and overwhelm
The deadly fumes of worry.

Anger
By Katy Hall

Riding giant waves
The exhilarating crests that curl and topple
Into white breaking foam
That thrust the body against a shore
Then drag it back to sea
Scraping tender skin against coarse sand
Limp and helpless
Riding the cycle again and again
Letting its power grind my body into the beach
As pebbles flay marks
Across back, belly, knees
And the cold brine sweeps
The tangle of my hair into eyes and mouth
Gasping for air and seeking
An escape from this battering
My Anger
To summon the strength
To dig arms and legs deep into the rough beach
and fight against the rip tide
That sucks me back out to that ocean of anger
Crawling away from its hypnotic pull
To lie panting
Bruised and broken on the rocky shore
Its cold edge still lapping at my feet.

Dark Forest
By Ali Zidel Meyers

Tea cup holding water
green and clear and dark.
Steam climbs.
Curtains pulled back
hug swirling magenta circles.

I gaze window-wide;
my mind reads scattered
trees densely packed,
dark spaces in between.

Forest shelter differs
from sky.
The darkness inside
beckons us to walk
slowly:
each step
a universe
contained.

No thing harms
in this darkness.
It is quiet as pouring honey,
and the tree sap enfolds
the secrets
of dark spaces
revealing everything.

The earth is black:
covered with dappled
leaf shadows
and loose left-behinds.
What one thing needs,
another releases.

To Do List
By John Fiore

It’s a lot of work,

getting ready to die.

I don’t want to leave a big mess

for my loved ones to clean up.

Sorry enough the troubles I left

in their minds, all those bad memories,

like stacks of 33s and videotapes that

got wet in the flood, warped and

smelling of rot and earwigs.

They have digital copies but can’t shed the

old records, just in case.

I go through my things and fill the boxes –

Goodwill, Give Away, Garbage.

My buddy gets this pile,

sell the gym, who wants this desk,

get tires on the car,

write a maintenance schedule,

fix the refrigerator,

where is the living will,

where is the last will and testament,

are the bank records straight,

is the bill-paying routine clear?

And then I think, ‘What about

my remains, my funeral, I don’t want

to add a gritty pile of ash and bone

to the soggy messes

in the basements of those I love,

to the warped vinyl and the moldy papers.

Will I need special handling

because of all the chemo?

What can I do to save my love

from all the damage I’ve wrought?

I don’t have time,

I need more time,

please let me pile up

a little more time.

Our Writers Write--and Publish!

Congratulations to Jasan Zimmerman & Ali Zidel Meyers, members of the Writers at Stanford Cancer Center, whose essays have just been published in CHICKEN SOUP FOR THE SOUL: THE CANCER BOOK.

WRITING THROUGH CANCER

Writing prompts to inspire your stories of the cancer experience

Welcome!

Weekly Writing Prompts

Cancer: In Our Words

In Our Words

In Their Words

If You Want to Write

Contact