White Paper - Poem

 

After waiting a week, I finally got the results of my EGD and colonoscopy. I was unsure what to expect.

Growing up, one thing I heard from my mom was “you’re going to end up with stomach cancer”. The reason she said this, I am unsure. As a child and through my years living under my parents’ roof, I drank a lot of sodas. As a result, I would burp a ton. My mom’s conclusion was not that I had a lot of gas built up in my stomach because of the carbonation, but she took it to the extreme and told me I was going to get stomach cancer. Tough love, huh?

As I had my procedure and waited the few days after for the results, that saying, and my mom’s voice played on repeat in my head. I wondered, is the fate she so quickly sentenced me to as a younger person? Would it soon be my fate?

I first read the test results online through my online chart. These results were in medical terms, with no written synopsis from my doctor. As most people do, I Googled the results to determine what the results were. The word ‘cancer’ appeared in the Google search.

I called the office and received a voicemail box upon which I left a message. Hours later, I called back and finally got someone who put the results in layperson’s terms. Result is the EGD showed no actual issues other than a swollen esophagus. The colonoscopy showed three pre-cancerous polyps that were removed. The nurse or assistant I spoke to after quickly explaining things to me asked if I had questions. Due to me trying to process what she said and the rapid pace that she told me, I simply asked “so all is good?” She said “yes, you need to have another colonoscopy in 3 years. You had 3 pre-cancerous polyps that were removed. If they had not been, they likely would have led to cancer.”

A few days of worry and fighting my mom’s voice in my head left me exhausted. I got the good news I had hoped for.

I was listening to Linkin Park moments before I called the office for the second time and got the results. The song is called Forgotten, and there is a line in the song that has always stuck out to me “When the paper’s crumpled up it can’t be perfect again.”  It is often how I perceive my life.

I felt when I was born; I was a bright perfect sheet of paper. No flaws, no blemishes, perfect. Life, society, people, and family have written on me, crumpled me up, and sometimes discarded me. Everyone I have met, even if only briefly, that has entered my life and left my life, including my parents, wrote on me, and created the paper you see before you now. My paper results from my life experiences, the people that had access to shape it, and crinkle it up. Every thought, decision, logic, or reason comes from those that are written in my paper. As much as I try to erase the things on there that negatively affect me, and flatten out the permanent creases, my paper will never be perfect again.

Here is a poem I wrote called White Paper. My life influenced it, but it also drew inspiration from that one lyric in the song mentioned above.

 

Once flat and pristine, a canvas of white,

A blank slate for dreams to take flight.

With an eager pen, I inscribed my desire,

A symphony of words set afire.

 

But doubt crept in, a shadow so sly,

Twisting my words with a critical eye.

The paper crumpled, a testament to fear,

My imperfect creation, bathed in tears.

 

Though smoothed with care, the creases remain,

A constant reminder of flaws and pain.

No matter how hard I try to erase,

The scars of imperfection leave their trace.

 

But within these wrinkles, a new truth I see,

Beauty in imperfection, a poem set free.

For in the crumpled lines, a story is told,

Of struggle, resilience, and a heart made bold.

 

So let me be crumpled, with creases and folds,

For within these imperfections, my uniqueness unfolds.

For a perfect poem is a lifeless thing,

But a crumpled one whispers, forever taking wing.

Until next time,

Tim