‘I am so, so sorry.’
‘You’re going to be fine.’
‘Fight it, you know you’re a fighter.’
‘Are we going to be poor, Dad?’
‘Is there anything we can do? Anything?‘
‘It’s not like you had much hair to lose anyway.’
‘Haven’t you got a lovely shaped head?’
‘High-grade, yes.’
‘Not the best Valentine’s present ever.’
‘You are going to feel quite poorly.’
‘Have you any undealt-with anger?’
‘I wouldn’t call covering for you fun.’
‘Hello, cancer-boy!’
‘Shit happens.’
Love for Now
Riddance
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Published by Anthony Wilson
I am a lecturer, poet and writing tutor. I work in teacher and medical education at the University of Exeter. My anthology Lifesaving Poems was published by Bloodaxe Books in 2015. In 2012 I published Riddance (Worple Press), a collection of poems, and Love for Now (Impress Books), a memoir, about my experience of cancer. My most recent books are Deck Shoes (Impress Books, 2019), a book of prose memoir and criticism, and The Afterlife (Worple Press, 2019). In 2023 I will publish The Wind and the Rain, my sixth collection of poems, with Blue Diode Press. My current research project, with Sue Dymoke from Nottingham Trent University and funded by the Foyle Foundation, is Young Poets' Stories: https://youngpoetsstories.com/. This blog is archived by the British Library.
View all posts by Anthony Wilson
Anthony Wilson 
Seeing the comments listed makes me feel that this is one time when words seem to be inadequate. Would a hug or a touch of the hand be the way?
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Mostly words are inadequate. Silence and tears worked well. So did showing up and being there. No one gets it right, but we all kept learning.
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“Hello cancer-boy!” I actually love this one. Andrew was teasing our son about wanting to take a day off school because he had a bad cold and kept calling him “Sick Note.” Johnny came back with “I don’t know why you’re calling me Sick Note – you’re the one with cancer!”. It felt fantastic to laugh. Great post/poem. – J xx
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I love this story Josephine. Reminds me of a friend whose children used to say to her ‘Shouldn’t you be upstairs dying Mummy?’ when she came down to make coffee.
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I really appreciate your blogs, Anthony. You are making talk possible. I hope you have some idea of the love and helpfulness many of us find on your site. Thank you. x
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That is so kind of you to say, Josephine. If I’m honest I don’t think I do realise it, because that would be to spend valuable energy second guessing what to say. Nevertheless, comments like yours lift me more than I can say, and I am deeply grateful for them. A
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Hi Ant. As I recall I said ‘shit’. A bit Jorn Cannesque I think. All the best,Roger
Date: Thu, 11 Feb 2016 05:28:52 +0000 To: rrsnj.lewis@talk21.com
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I think you did say that Roger. Thank you as ever for your honesty and not dressing it up.
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Anthony – Did anyone ever say anything that really helped or that made you feel better about things?
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When people said nothing, or Shit happens, like my ward doctor used to, that was OK.
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So cool, so clever, so good to tell it like it is!
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I know you know about this. Thank you for saying so!
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Wow this is breath taking. I know people who have had cancer, or currently do and I never stop to think of what others may say. Your friends and family change the way they speak to you when you are sick, but to see that may not have happened to you, shows what an amazing group of people you are surrounded by.
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Thank you for your kind comment. Even now, when friends of mine are diagnosed with cancer, I still find it hard to know what to say, even though I have been through it. But talking always helps. Always.
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