The Last Seven Days

poem the moment

Late in the spring, we shared a piece by Carol Anne responding to this same prompt…  Now read another submission by a writer in the Unspoken Ink summer session…

The nights had felt endless and so had the days.  The longest 8-minute phone call 18 months before was culminating in the longest, last 7 days.

Seven days of middle of the night meds.

Seven days of a constant stream of visitors.

Seven days of catch up phone calls.

Seven days of a beautiful, snowy world.

Seven days of ignoring the inevitable.

Seven days of silence.

Pills became syringes of liquids and creams.  People became so far away, emotional expanses opening up the already pronounced physical distances between us.  The world continued on outside in a ruthless veil of normalcy.  Nods and blinks turned into silence.

The topic we’d ignored crashed through the house.  It sloshed at our ankles and slowly rose up our legs, torsos, up to our noses.

I wanted to shout.  Hit the rewind button.  Ask all the questions I never knew I had and make space for the ones I hadn’t yet formed.

But then, all of a sudden, the seven days were over.

You were gone.

How would you respond to the writing prompt, ‘a moment’? “Everybody has a moment when you know nothing is going to be the same ever again, when one part of your life ends and another begins.  This is when you know that the changes, for better or worse are going to be coming hard and fast.  You’re on a roller coaster and all you can do is hope that your safety belt stays fastened and that you’ll come out in one piece.  These moments are what make us who we are, and I know I wouldn’t be quite me without mine.” 

—

This writing comes directly from one of our participants in our Unspoken Ink Creative Writing Group for young adult cancer survivors.  The participants are meeting for 2 hours each week, for 8 weeks during our Summer 2018 session.  This writing has not been edited since its original creation, showing the wonderfully raw and powerful prose coming from the courageous writing group participants each week.  If you’d like to sign up for future sessions, please email info@lacunaloft.org or sign up on our interest form.

The Little Things

poem the moment

The little things are often bigger than we give them credit for. There’s triumph in getting out of bed and staying out of it all day. There’s dignity and strength in showing up to treatment each day. Taking a shower and getting dressed, making dinner, eating dinner. Each moment is a celebration, each day is a new triumph of existence and life. Some days my only accomplishment is feeding the cats. Some days it’s staying sane in the face of grief and the terror I feel waiting for the results of my next scans. Is it radiation necrosis? Is my brain being eaten by the radiation that killed off Larry (my tumor)? Has my cancer come back a third time? Breathing through each day and surviving daily life is cause for celebration. It’s the (big) little things that give meaning and hope to each day.

by Carol Anne Pagliotti

You can read more of Carol Anne’s writing at SoapBoxVille.

How would you respond to the writing prompt, ‘a moment’? “Everybody has a moment when you know nothing is going to be the same ever again, when one part of your life ends and another begins.  This is when you know that the changes, for better or worse are going to be coming hard and fast.  You’re on a roller coaster and all you can do is hope that your safety belt stays fastened and that you’ll come out in one piece.  These moments are what make us who we are, and I know I wouldn’t be quite me without mine.” 

—

This writing comes directly from one of our participants in our Unspoken Ink Creative Writing Group for young adult cancer survivors.  The participants are meeting for 2 hours each week, for 8 weeks during our Summer 2018 session.  This writing has not been edited since its original creation, showing the wonderfully raw and powerful prose coming from the courageous writing group participants each week.  If you’d like to sign up for future sessions, please email info@lacunaloft.org or sign up on our interest form.

Summer Session of the Unspoken Ink Creative Writing Workshop!

online writing workshop

Our online, Unspoken Ink: Creative Writing Workshop is designed to take you on a journey through your cancer diagnosis and into your survivorship with a small group of your young adult cancer survivor peers. Each 8-week Writing Workshop consists of a weekly writing night attended via online video chat. We will get to know one another in an intimate, 18 person setting and address issues that transport us from initial diagnosis into the new normal and survivorship.

Update: The Summer Session is now full.  Please fill out the interest form below to be notified when registration opens for our next session!

Where: Online video chat. We’ll send you more information about joining after you register. Please have a microphone headset and a webcam.

Who: Young adult cancer survivors and caregivers.

When: The writing group meets for 2 hours each week, for a period of 8 weeks. A commitment to attend each week is important to group continuity and in creating a safe space. Please be on time.

How does it work:

  • This workshop uses the Amherst Writing and Artists (AWA) Method.  The facilitator provides a writing prompt and you can use that prompt in any way you’d like to create a story over a set amount of time. Once we’ve finished our writing (yes, the facilitator writes too!), everyone is given the opportunity to read their writing out loud. Though sharing is optional, hearing your own story and hearing someone else’s teaches us about our experiences and our stories. Once the piece is read, we reflect on the writing – what did we like, what stood out, what did we remember. Everything is considered fiction so we do not respond to the writer as a support group may, but keep the focus on the writing.
  • Sometimes the prompts are about cancer, sometimes indirectly related to cancer, and sometimes not about cancer at all. Above all, the writing program emphasizes that we are more than a diagnosis.
  • Following each weekly session, you may decide to submit your writing to Mallory (mallory@lacunaloft.org) for publication on LacunaLoft.org in their Young Adult Voices program section. This is not mandatory!