**I've been thinking about these words and thoughts since coming home from Omaha and hearing so much Olympic chatter. It is not meant to be "sad", but rather triumphant. I got the words written this morning and I posted it on Facebook and people thought I was "lonely". That is not what it's about... I think fellow "runners" on here will understand the meaning. Hugs to all!
Alone in My Victory. 7/31/21
Last year running with the bulls at Pamplona
…dappled sunlight on my face, I felt the rush of
Near death. Imminent death. Sweet death.
Alone in my bed.
Today running the last few miles of the marathon
I listened for the roar of the crowds
Cheering me on.
I looked for the eager faces ready to see
History made….
But as I rounded the last corner and into the last stretch,
I heard no one.
I saw no one.
I was alone in my victory.
I was in the womb again pushing to be born again completely alone.
No one noticed my heavy heart, the
Labored breathing…
The legs giving out with intense pain.
No one noticed.
I was triumphant,
But alone in my victory.
The marathon completed, the race won, I came in and sat in my chair.
Another day has begun.
gJohn
Written by
greatjohn
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I think many times that cancer is not to smart. Instead of living in symbiosis it grows moves, challenges, and wants to be dominant, but in truth its aggression kills the host and leads to its own demise.....not smart. I guess this is more like deep thoughts from Saturday Nights Jack Handey.
I think if it as being atavistic -- a return to the mode of cell proliferation in early Precambrian times and life forms. A cell that forgot to die and forgot its place in history.
Very nice poem! Describes our journey fighting the beast and also I think describes the feelings of some of those Olympians who are competing in venues with no spectators because of another equally devistating beast, COVID-19. Thank you for sharing.
Thank you for sharing, GreatJohn. You share your feelings of your experience with us; you hold it up so we have opportunity to resonate/contrast with our own. All of us in this group share a cancer in the same tissue of origin, but that doesn't mean it's the same cancer. We start with some and then develop even more different genetic mutations. Our bodies combat the malignancies with differently-strengthened or weakened immune systems. We have different co-morbidities and different epigenomes; we live differently; we sleep differently; we stress differently. Together we march sequentially through the basic dozen Standard of Care "treatments" with variations due to oncologists' or radiologists' preferences. It's as dangerous as running with the bulls. You've recently had Lu177's sharp horn scraping at your back; I've had Rad223 and now Cabazitaxel. The horns are different; the cobblestones we trip over are different, but we run! And the longer we run the more it turns into a marathon - a crowd marathon, to be sure, but also a solo marathon. Because your race is not my race, and my finish line is not your finish line. But finish we will. And yet, you finish with a Birthing ...
Greatjohn, great poem! Never stopped to think about how alone we'll all be when that final moment arrives. This is food for thought and inspiring. Thanks for sharing.
I applaud your effort at writing this and I hope you continue. I have an interest in writing too but have been too lazy or distracted to even try. Your writing also reminded me of my days as a distance runner. At 6'4" I wasn't the ideal candidate for cross country but I gave it a go. I don't know if I could run three blocks now. Now I watch my grandson play hockey. I had a love for that too but had to give that up. Such is life.
Excellent poem. Should be in the HU archives. Great photo. I know you have a house full of antiques and that you are impeccable. I noticed the picture frame was crooked. And then I thought, no, maybe the house is crooked. And then it occurred to me that maybe one of GJ's legs was shorter that the other leg. An optical illusion? Maybe Richard took the picture. Sparky? Ok. Nothing is really crooked. Well, maybe Richard Nixon, but that's a different story.
Took this week off from fighting my great foe, advanced prostate cancer. Devoting it to fighting another, Delta variant COVID breakthrough. Very intense as it infected my epiglottis and challenging both breathing and swallowing. And a plethora of other symptoms including sickening my wife. ( we both were vaccinated six months ago.)I considered that I once joked that dying from something other than PC could be defined as the victory??? Not so fast! Fighting like hell and turning the corner today, I think. Last night life was uncertain.
What a mess! And both of you sick. (Insert joke here.) Sorry. I know you are both suffering. I did like where you mentioned that you sickened your wife. Hoping you cut a couple of corners today.
That poem was..great, John !! Just awesome, very thought provoking moving and inspiring, Thanks for that my brother, and always, keep the Faith!Wings aka Dan in So Cal
I should have given an explanation for the "great John". I met a guru almost 20 years ago and we spent some time together. He later, in correspondence, always referrred to me as "greatjohn"...so I took it as my "Hindu" name so to speak...I don't mean to imply I am great...but that there is a "light" or "great" force within the dead common John. That said...how am I doing? hmmm. I had blood work done on this Monday and I did NOT have to rush in for blood transfusion or platelet transfusion. That same day I had a full body bone scan...I am awaiting those results and also my latest PSA. Feeling tired a lot, but I have not done any treatment since the LU 177 in Omaha (about 4 months ago)...so enjoying that. I will know soon "how my cancer is doing"...and I'm hoping for the best! How are you guys doing? Has Bill's PSA continued to stay down since his treatment? big hugs,gJohn
I’m sitting outside Starbucks in Seattle giving our dog a pup cup for the first time - he is in heaven. Whipping cream heaven. I’m waiting for Bill’s latest results. I’ll post later today. Hey you are the greatest John. (Maybe that will get j-o-h-n posting again)
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