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Medical Humanities

Chemo Cocktail

Maggie Cupit

July 10, 2015


Chemotherapy is glamorous.

We celebrate with poison drinks to rid me of the cancerous.

Doxorubicin sets fire to my throat like bad wine—red, 

Infusing my pee with its blood-orange dye and the stench of something dead.

Cyclophosphamide arrives in a sugar-rimmed glass,

And lingers on my tongue, like vodka laced with brass.

My methotrexate is boxed chardonnay, served chilled in a giant plastic bladder.  

At dawn, a hangover. I dry heave to the sound of night staff chatter. 

I close my eyes, and recall

The colorful infusions and intoxications—

Forgotten is the world outside these hospital walls.

I am desirable, floating on a cloud, lifted with ease,

Like an angel that sees both heaven and hell.

I shall drink away my disease.



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