Cansa, you’d better watch out – cos we’re coming to get ya!

04 Sep

Dear Friends,

A good friend left a message on the answer phone at work, “Ring me!” I did and after the usual chatter he blurted it out, “I’ve got cancer…I wanted to tell you before you heard it on the grapevine.”

Before I could open my mouth he said, “It’s inoperable, but I’m fine – I’m starting treatment tomorrow.” Well I spent the next ten minutes in a bit of a blur – empathising, sympathising – in shock. When he hung up I couldn’t believe what he’d told me and as I told another friend, I had to question myself; have I made a terrible mistake?

I remember one of our ‘lunches’. I’d not seen him for weeks, he’d been unwell after the chemo – not able to keep his food down, not taking visitors, and boy did he look thin. Of course I didn’t tell him that – instead I said a little white lie, “You’re looking well – how are you feeling? How’s the treatment going?” – I could picture the ward – the lovely caring nurses the bright colours, the sunlight – I’d spent an hour or so with him, during his previous treatment, as the drip flooded his system with chemicals to fight the cancer – but the side effects weakened him.

I remember smiling sweetly at the others on the ward – gripping their partner’s hands while the wonderful nurses replenished the clear bags of the wonder drug.  I wanted to say something, but instead I could only smile – they smiled back.

He arrived at the cafe, for lunch, with a new hat – he didn’t wear hats, but this one was quite stylish – covered his embarrassment; he quickly made excuses, hiding the truth – but we both knew…

He interrupted before I could ask, “And how are you, how’s work?” He said totally selfless, a shadow of his former self.

The waitress delivered a tray; two pints of our usual – ‘Peroni’. He snapped, quite out of character, “Can’t stand the taste anymore…Sorry mate, you’ll have to drink mine – can I have a coffee please…”

And that’s when I realised…

Sadly, I had to say goodbye to my buddy – as he lost his battle with stomach cancer. He was so brave, fought it to the bitter end – never made a fuss.

I’ve been inspired to write this rhyme (to be read as a rap)  – pass it on to your friends and family hopefully it may help to further raise awareness.  Remember;


Cancer, watch out – cos we’re coming to get ya!

We ain’t afraid to say ya name


And certainly not hold our heads in shame



Cos we’re one step ahead of ya

Better watch out cos we’re coming to get ya


We know how you start

A simple mark

A lump or a bump

Can take hold in a spark


You try to demean so very mean

We know ya wanna friend

But ya just so pretend

And we’re gunna rock ya

Take a trip to the docta


But through fear or dread

Hear what they say

And never delay


A friend a colleague a child or a spouse

All God’s animals including a mouse

Age, gender or race holds no bounds

Cos Cansa’s doing the rounds


Whether you’re a dancer

Whether you’re a chancer

Cansa’s without loyalty

Can even strike Royalty


But through fear or dread

Hear what they say

And never delay


Whatever Cansa send

Gunna fight to the bitter end

Treatment loss of hair

Others may stare


But you’re not gunna shake us

And certainly not break us

For one day be sure

A prevention or cure!


But through fear or dread

Hear what they say

And never delay


We know someone who’s tried

Someone who’s died

So gather your friends

Against whatever it sends


Cos it’d better watch out

As we scream and shout

For we’re so sure

We’ll find your cure!!!

Spoken from my heart

© SR Clarke X


Posted by on September 4, 2013 in Poetry


Tags: , , , , ,

3 responses to “Cansa, you’d better watch out – cos we’re coming to get ya!

  1. srclarke69

    September 25, 2013 at 12:12 pm

    Reblogged this on Steve Clarke's Diary and commented:

    May God bless a very precious friend of mine; who’s going through treatment for breast cancer. Just to let you know, CG, I’m thinking of you and I’m there with you and will support you every step of the way. X

  2. Bonnie Petten

    October 5, 2013 at 11:16 am

    I don’t know how I managed to miss this post, Steve. Just saw it today. So very sorry to hear you lost your friend to stomach cancer. Big hugs, brother. Bloody stuff took my mother, too, at just age 58. Horrible. I’m not convinced that modern treatments know what they’re doing, entirely. Good friend of mine is a 6-year survivor and she had so-called “alternative” treatments. “Do no harm” medicine, as they call it, followed by surgery. She suffered none of the traditional ill effects, and yet is considered cured. There is so much more out there than we know.

    Blessings to your friend who is currently undergoing treatment for breast cancer and to a friend and colleague of mine who is also fighting esophageal cancer.

    • srclarke69

      June 16, 2014 at 8:28 pm

      Thanks Bonnie, I too missed your comment. We must remain positive that one day, WE WILL beat cancer and all diseases.


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