tsunami

cancer is like this.
It comes with no warning and without celebration, without pomp and without occasion.
It sweeps the very life from under you
and pulls the carpet from beneath where you trod.

When I discovered a loved one was afflicted in this way
it felt as though me and those I love
were inside a food processor.

An alien and uncaring finger pressed it on
and pulsed us to a pulp.
then stopped.
Then pressed it on again
until we no longer knew ourselves or the ground on which we stood.

That cold and wintry day many months ago,
my world altered when hers was threatened.

Some days you are pleased that things are level and okay
you forget
and carry on with it all
and then the tsunami comes and rips things assunder.
No warning,
No reason
No justice.

Once it has struck once you never feel the same.
And any tickle, any ache, brings with it the hated uncertainty of unwelcome mortality.

Can things get any worse? you wonder
And sometimes it feels they can
But I have to try to believe.
Things can get better.