WHAT IS CANCER - WHO GETS IT AND WHY - WITH A POEM ABOUT HOPE BY JOHN McCRAE

The Hope Of My Heart by John McCrae

I left, to earth, a little maiden fair,
With locks of gold, and eyes that shamed the light;
I prayed that God might have her in His care
And sight.

Earth's love was false; her voice, a siren's song;
(Sweet mother-earth was but a lying name)
The path she showed was but the path of wrong
And shame.

"Cast her not out!" I cry. God's kind words come --
"Her future is with Me, as was her past;
It shall be My good will to bring her home
At last."

WHAT IS CANCER - WHO GETS IT AND WHY?
Cancer (medical term: malignant neoplasm) is a class of diseases in which a group of cells display uncontrolled growth (division beyond the normal limits), invasion (intrusion on and destruction of adjacent tissues), and sometimes metastasis (spread to other locations in the body via lymph or blood). These three malignant properties of cancers differentiate them from benign tumors, which are self-limited, do not invade or metastasize. Most cancers form a tumor but some, like leukemia, do not. The branch of medicine concerned with the study, diagnosis, treatment, and prevention of cancer is oncology.

Cancer may affect people at all ages, even fetuses, but the risk for most varieties increases with age.[1] Cancer causes about 13% of all deaths.[2] According to the American Cancer Society, 7.6 million people died from cancer in the world during 2007.[3] Cancers can affect all animals.

Nearly all cancers are caused by abnormalities in the genetic material of the transformed cells. These abnormalities may be due to the effects of carcinogens, such as tobacco smoke, radiation, chemicals, or infectious agents. Other cancer-promoting genetic abnormalities may be randomly acquired through errors in DNA replication, or are inherited, and thus present in all cells from birth. The heritability of cancers are usually affected by complex interactions between carcinogens and the host's genome. New aspects of the genetics of cancer pathogenesis, such as DNA methylation, and microRNAs are increasingly recognized as important.

For more information go to - The Wikipedia Cancer Page
Go back to Poetry Cancer Homepage

COLON CANCER LINKS - WITH A POEM BY ANNE BRONTE

WHAT IS COLON CANCER?
Colon cancer is the cancer of the colon or Large Intestine, which is in the lower half on the disgestive system. About 120,000 people are diagnosed with Colon Cancer each year in America. Regular checks can help detect it at an early stage before it becomes Cancerous. For more information on - Click on the link for more information on Colon Cancer


Oh, They have Robbed Me of The Hope by Anne Bronte

Oh, they have robbed me of the hope
My spirit held so dear;
They will not let me hear that voice
My soul delights to hear.
They will not let me see that face
I so delight to see;
And they have taken all thy smiles,
And all thy love from me.

Well, let them seize on all they can: --
One treasure still is mine, --
A heart that loves to think on thee,
And feels the worth of thine.

Go back to Cancer Poems Homepage

CANCER DICTIONARY WITH A POEM ABOUT HOPE - THE NATIONAL CANCER INSTITUTE

Before or after you read this wonderful poem about hope, please go to the 'Dictionary of Cancer Terms' to find out about all forms of Cancer. Whether it be words or phrases like halofuginone hydrobromide, Halsted radical mastectomy or to find out signs and symptoms of all types and levels of Cancer, this website from the National Cancer Institute is a must for all people to browse through. Knowledge is a great asset when it comes to Cancer and Cancer Treatment. The National Cancer Institute is there to help. It has almost any fact you need to know about all forms of Cancer. It is the goverments official body for Cancer. Go to National Cancer Institute Homepage

Since Thou Hast Given Me This Good Hope, O God by Robert Louis Stevenson

SINCE thou hast given me this good hope, O God,
That while my footsteps tread the flowery sod
And the great woods embower me, and white dawn
And purple even sweetly lead me on
From day to day, and night to night, O God,
My life shall no wise miss the light of love;
But ever climbing, climb above
Man's one poor star, man's supine lands,
Into the azure steadfastness of death,
My life shall no wise lack the light of love,
My hands not lack the loving touch of hands;
But day by day, while yet I draw my breath,
And day by day, unto my last of years,
I shall be one that has a perfect friend.
Her heart shall taste my laughter and my tears,
And her kind eyes shall lead me to the end.

Go back to Poetry Cancer Homepage

GRATITUDE FOR BEING ALIVE – A GRATEFUL HEART IS A HOPEFUL HEART

Before you read this wonderful poem - have you ever heard of Pseudomyxoma Peritonei ?. Probably not. You can find out about this rare, slow growing cancer of the appendix by going to the CANCER BACK UP SITE. All cancers can be killers and it is good to have information on all of them. A quick diagnosis is the surest way to save lives from any Cancer. Enjoy the poem.

Little I ask; my wants are few;
I only wish a hut of stone,
(A very plain brown stone will do,)
That I may call my own;
And close at hand is such a one,
In yonder street that fronts the sun.

Plain food is quite enough for me;
Three courses are as good as ten;
If Nature can subsist on three,
Thank Heaven for three. Amen!
I always thought cold victual nice;
My choice would be vanilla-ice.

I care not much for gold or land;
Give me a mortgage here and there,
Some good bank-stock, some note of hand,
Or trifling railroad share,
I only ask that Fortune send
A little more than I shall spend.

Honors are silly toys, I know,
And titles are but empty names;
I would, perhaps, be Plenipo,
But only near St. James;
I'm very sure I should not care
To fill our Gubernator's chair.

Jewels are baubles; 't is a sin
To care for such unfruitful things;
One good-sized diamond in a pin,
Some, not so large, in rings,
A ruby, and a pearl, or so,
Will do for me; - I laugh at show.

My dame should dress in cheap attire;
(Good, heavy silks are never dear;)
I own perhaps I might desire
Some shawls of true Cashmere,
Some marrowy crapes of China silk,
Like wrinkled skins on scalded milk.

I would not have the horse I drive
So fast that folks must stop and stare;
An easy gait - two forty-five
Suits me; I do not care;
Perhaps, for just a single spurt,
Some seconds less would do no hurt.

Of pictures, I should like to own
Titians and Raphaels three or four,
I love so much their style and tone,
One Turner, and no more,
(A landscape, - foreground golden dirt,
The sunshine painted with a squirt.)

Of books but few, - some fifty score
For daily use, and bound for wear;
The rest upon an upper floor;
Some little luxury there
Of red morocco's gilded gleam
And vellum rich as country cream.

Busts, cameos, gems, such things as these,
Which others often show for pride,
I value for their power to please,
And selfish churls deride;
One Stradivarius, I confess,
Two Meerschaums, I would fain possess.

Wealth's wasteful tricks I will not learn,
Nor ape the glittering upstart fool;
Shall not carved tables serve my turn,
But all must be of buhl?
Give grasping pomp its double share,
I ask but one recumbent chair.

Thus humble let me live and die,
Nor long for Midas' golden touch;
If Heaven more generous gifts deny,
I shall not miss them much,
Too grateful for the blessing lent
Of simple tastes and mind content!

I WISH I COULD HAVE YOU BACK

A DEFINITION OF PROSTATE CANCER FROM THE NATIONAL CANCER INSTITUTE

Cancer that forms in tissues of the prostate (a gland in the male reproductive system found below the bladder and in front of the rectum). Prostate cancer usually occurs in older men, but this is not definate. There are about 190,000 new cases of Protate Cancer each year resulting in just under 30,000 deaths.

CANCER POETRY
I was sitting beside you bed,
For days on end,
Watching you fade away,
To another place and time,
Where we will be separated,
Possibly forever,
And I will never talk to you again,
Or make cheesecake with you,
The fire is going out,
Every moment could be the last,
There is a dark sky outside,
No lights in or out,
I chat with Cancer,
As I drink a sour cup of coffee,
I dream about my childhood,
I wish I could have you back,
But you are never coming back,
And now I must move forward in love,
Because it was you who gave me life.

CANCER FACTS
Aplastic anemia is a disorder in which the bone marrow fails to make enough blood cells. The bone marrow is the soft, inner part of bones where the 3 types of blood cells are made -

Did the term Aplastic Amenia ever cross your path - Find out about - Aplastic Amenia right now.