Left with One

Adult Heroes
Written By

At 28, I had to quickly come to terms with the fact that I would have to deal with cancer much sooner than my father and grandfather; and, with the possibility I would face a similar fate, death. Early detection not only saved my life, but countless hours of additional surgeries and treatments. 10 years later, I’m cancer free. This is my story. 

Left with One

It’s 2am and I’m barely sleeping.

I lie alone, negative thoughts seething.

Fear and denial incessantly weaving.

A tiny lump has my mind reeling. 

Maybe it’s nothing, an over-reaction.

I turn on the tv, could use the distraction.

An effort in vain with no satisfaction.

That lump is still there, crying for action. 

You see cancer is common, within my genes.

It’s torn through my family, not visibly seen.

Could I be next or, is this a dream?

Anxieties high, so loud, I could scream. 

Days turn to weeks with no reprieve.

Symptoms worsen, still tough to conceive.

This nightmare’s real, I’m no longer naive.

I need to seek help, I can barely breathe. 

So, I go to the doctor and dropped my pants.

He thought it was nothing, no second glance.

Go for imaging, there’s always a chance.

Confused, I was certain . . . I leave in a trance. 

I could see it on his face, this woeful expression.

What does he see? What’s the machine’s detection?

He leaves me alone, seeking further direction.

Then sends me home, facing more introspection. 

I heard from my doctor within the hour.

Appointment made; my dispositions now dour.

Need to be strong, summon mental power.

The survival rate’s high, there’s no need to cower. 

The doctor was brief and very direct.

The lump could be cancer, is what we detect.

Surgery’s needed, this requires respect.

Urgency’s vital, no time to reflect. 

2 days blurred by, it happened so fast.

And within hours, was thing of the past.

The only question now is, how long will it last?

The fight isn’t over, I remain steadfast. 

Left with one testicle, it still feels odd.

Call me a survivor, but that title seems flawed.

Wasn’t much of a fight, so I feel like a fraud.

But that scar runs deep, hard to keep a facade. 

My shame is now gone, fully erased.

I’ve decided to advocate, my story embraced.

Campaigns and articles adorned with my face.

To help remove stigmas, causing disgrace.

Feeling inspired? You can connect with Darrel here:

Unsinkable Storytelling Author: Darrel Mancini

Previous

One Foot in Front of the Other
Next

When Life Gives You Parkinson’s