It’s Nice

It's Nice

When hospital visits are over

And life has to adjust,

The simple things become harder

But the harder things become a must.


Getting through treatment is the one thing

That can make you feel so ill,

So, when that part is over

You tend to do what you will.


It’s nice to get up in the morning

And walk without pain in the feet,

The tablets however will make you

Just walk til you find the next seat!


It’s nice to walk in the fresh air

I’m not talking miles yet, just far

Enough not to get out of breath, or

Automatically get in the car.


It’s nice to look in the mirror

And see hair back on my head,

It may be growing at snail’s pace

It’s curly-fuzz it has to be said.


It’s nice not to feel so bloated

I’d nicknamed myself ‘moon head’!

And I had a face a lovely shade

Of what I called ‘steroid red’.


It’s nice to just about wear some

Mascara on my short little lashes,

At least now my lids don’t look like

A load of dots and long dashes.


It’s nice to paint my nails again

They’ve grown back now, that was yuk!

They no longer look brown and manky

I’d lost most of them, just my luck.


So ‘I wish I could do’, the brain thinks

Now becomes ‘I can do that!’

You want to feel 100% again

And do everything at the drop of a hat.


So, patience is key while the body

Gets to a point when you can

Put on a pair of roller-skates

Not sit and watch as a fan.


Or get on a fair ride when normally

You’d let the kids go on alone,

Ok maybe not the fast ones…

I’m not daft (go on! I hear you moan).


It’s nice to sit in the sunshine

Factor 50 is still used today,

It no longer feels like a chore though

To plaster in it, in that way.


It’s nice to see light after darkness

It’s nice to start feeling like me,

I’ve accepted I’m different inside though

For having and fighting The Big C.

Claire D Evans

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