In the Ring aka Fight Song

Cancer seems to be hitting from all sides--family and friends. When I heard about my brother's wife being diagnosed with cancer three weeks after she gave birth to their third child, I cried. I cried because I was afraid of what might happen and afraid of all the implications. Later I talked with my brother. In the context of our conversation, I wrote this after we hung up. My brother is the man with blue eyes.

You wish you could breathe, but the news is too fresh
A kick in the gut, the words just don’t mesh.
How could this happen with a newborn son?
How could this happen? You know you’re not done.
Swirling and whirling your mind knows the path
Crying and trying you give baby a bath,
Feeling the water on his soft skin
Helps you to find your strength within.
But nothing you do makes it all make sense
Your hands feel tied, your body is tense.
The phone rings again, this call you’ll take
Maybe the doctor made a mistake.

You take a drive that very next day
One sharp turn, and you find your way.
In the wrong neighborhood, or so it seems
For feeling hope and finding your dreams,
Past the pawn shop and across the street
You follow the rhythm of a different beat.
Punk outside bouncing a ball
Girl in heels breaking her fall
Kids scoping rims around your car
You know you’ve driven much too far.
But the address is clear with gloves on the sign
And the doctors told you that you’ll do just fine,
So you steady yourself and try to look tough
You push open the door ‘cause enough is enough.

Hoping and groping for something familiar
The scene in the room becomes much clearer.
A beating sound meets your questioning eyes
Making you wish for a better disguise
They see right through your emotionless stare
Your perfect clothes and skin so fair.
A nod from one and then another
As if they knew you like a mother.
How could they know?
How does it show?
Did they feel this way
On their first day?
With fear and some doubt you don’t feel like a fighter,
You take a step forward and hold your gear tighter.

You bought it all, the day you found out
“I’m ready to go,” to your doctors you shout.
Your bag, your gloves, and all of your fear
“I’m ready to go,” you hope they hear.
They all just keep punching, bobbing and weaving,
You decide to step out, but a man sees you leaving.
“You gonna fight or what?” growls a deep voice.
“You fight or you leave, it’s really your choice.
Why come all this way just to look and to run?
No lattes here, missy, you’re not done.
Make no mistake, it’s all about you
You fight this fight, ‘cause watching won’t do.”
By the look on your face he instantly saw
You weren’t gonna hope for the luck of the draw.
You take off your coat, then he wraps your wrists
You lace up your boots, pull gloves on your fists.

You don’t feel like a fighter,
So you hold your gear tighter.
But getting in the ring it’s the only way
Getting in the ring is a price you’ll pay
For love, for hope, for buying time
‘Cause cures and courage they don’t stand in line.

Eyes steel blue and a convincing glance
The man with the voice teaches you to dance.
He says, “I’ll be in your corner to coach every move
I know how to fight, I’ll match every groove
No matter the odds, I know how to win
But you’re a survivor
You’ve got it within.
You’ve won many battles
You needed to fight
But this is the one, girl,
You must win it tonight.”

You don’t feel like a fighter,
So you hold your gear tighter.
But getting in the ring it’s the only way
Getting in the ring is a price you’ll pay
For love, for hope, for buying time
‘Cause cures and courage they don’t stand in line.

The man with blue eyes, he watches you dance
He guides you into a fighting stance.
He says, “I’ll be in your corner to coach every move
I know how to fight, I’ll match every groove
No matter the odds, I know how to win
But you’re a survivor
You’ve got it within.
You’ve won many battles
You needed to fight
But girl, this is the one, this is the one,
You’ve got to win it tonight.


Update: Last week, they found out that the surgery got all the cancer out, but she will have to have CTs and MRIs every four months on her lungs for 3yrs to make sure it doesn't metastize. We are very relieved, with caution.