In the January of '18, I don't recall the day.
They said you've gullet cancer and there it cannot stay.
They sent me off to Oxford to see what they could do.
Where a man named Mr Marshall said "I'm sure I can help you"
They put a camera in my gut and sent me for a scan.
Then called me back and confidently told me of his plan.
In Swindon I had chemo, and sat there all day long.
So it wouldn't be too boring, took a DVD player along.
They sent me home for three weeks with a course of chemo pills
I was doing really well, but on the last day feel quite ill.
I spent a month in hospital , things really got quite rough.
They said "for you there's no more chemo, we think you've had enough"
So in May, went back to Oxford for the surgery they'd planned.
Some needles in my spine and hand and off to slumber land.
I woke up in Intensive Care, it was a different day.
For 7 to 8 hours they'd been cutting bits away.
Most of my oesophagus, some stomach and some glands,
What's left joined back together by the surgeon's skillful hands.
They moved me to the GI ward til my stitches were removed
On June the 1st they sent me home on a diet of pureed food.
I was back to work by August and frankly on a roll.
Just a bit of excess belching and trouble with portion control.
This summer I had changed my job
Then I noticed things weren't right.
I was struggling with numbers, my mental focus, shite!
So I went to see the doctor who referred me for some test.
They called me back and sat me down, the news was not the best.
It seems there's now a tumor, growing on my brain.
They're confident they'll get it out, but here we go again.
So now we're waiting for a date, before Halloween they say.
They'll have me in and take it out and all this in just one day.
Just one bout of radiotherapy to make sure that it's gone.
"You'll be back at work in a month" they've claimed and nothing should go wrong.
So the the battle lines have all been drawn. I'm about to fight anew.
But with surgeon's skill and family's love.
I will beat this one too.
