by Joan Fleitas, Ed.D., R.N.

Part 2

It was early in October 
when I felt something was wrong.
I had bruises, I was cranky,
And I couldn't play for long.

My body was so hot inside 
I might have fried an egg.
My mom and dad were worried,
'Cause I hurt all down my leg.

They brought me to the doctor.
They brought me to a lab.
They brought me to the hospital.
Where I was very sad.

Before too long, the doctors
Found the bullies in my bones.
They were big and bold and bossy,
Called my bones and blood their home.

They sqeezed away the good cells,
And munched up all their food.
Like most bullies they weren't very smart,
Though they were surely rude.

You may think I was naughty.
I thought I must be bad.
To let these  bullies make me sick,
I didn't understand.

The doctor said don't worry.
The nurse said I'm quite brave.
They told me it just happens,
Not because I don't behave.

The doctor named these bullies.
Called them all leukemia.
Said that their outlandish features,
Fit some clear criteria. 

Continue to Part 3

To the frog ponds
To send me a poem
To the site map

Joan Fleitas, Ed.D., R.N.
Associate Professor of Nursing, Lehman College, CUNY
Bronx, New York 10468

Last updated: September 10, 2008