"Kilroy was here"-- plus!

Why did the phrase “Kilroy was here” catch on, at least in my generation and the one before mine? After all, I did not know Kilroy nor do I remember the exact place or circumstances in WWII at which he scrolled his existential statement. I could, of course, look it up quickly on Google, but I won't. Because what is intriguing is—why did his statement resonate with so many of us? He was not an author, a scientist, an editor, a statesman. He was just an ordinary person. I believe each reader already knows the answer to this question and finds that answer just springs magically and instantaneously from our shared existence or perhaps even our shared biology. We know that any one of us might be caught in an extraordinary circumstance, and we understand that expressions by individuals can represent us all. “Kilroy was here” caught on because we instinctively know we share life with all others. Productive scientists get to leave what might be thought of as a “Kilroy was here” – plus! signature. Through their discovery and publication in basic or clinical science, they not only leave a written record much longer than Kilroy's but also can directly improve the lives of patients with cancer. Certainly, this journal should continue publishing excellent clinical science and guidance. But why publish poetry from patients or members of the health profession engaged in cancer? Outcomes will not change. Tenure will not be made. Many such authors are not scientists or writers or editors, although readers may be fortunate when a skilled writer does this! Often it is ordinary people from whom words and insights occasionally flow in the form of poetry—for reasons not understood by me. Perhaps it is just “Kilroy was here” plus—with a poem attached rather than a name only. I do believe that it is to the credit of this journal that it will occasionally publish materials from patients with cancer and those engaged in their care. It helps us all remember that each of us matters whether we scrawl a phrase on a wall, publish excellent science, or try to express some strong experience made while living or working with cancer. Certainly all patients who have ever taken steroids will recognize the insightful description from one of my patients about the effects of dexamethasone. And I have added some of my own scrawling. My patient and I were here! Ode to Dex Praise be to Dex! Both boon and hex. Counts down a lot But glucose not. Skin's got too thin, Head's in a spin Up before sun. No work undone, Face in fiery flush, Mouth in full gush. Manic-driven mouth, Others driven south. Grab your tummy med, A rough ride's ahead. Organize the world, Restring every pearl. That Dex downhill crash, Worth the cancer smash! —Frances Stelling St. Augustine, Florida (Penned in sillyspiration by an insomniac dexamaniac) My Friend, My Patient So Here you are again We sit with our Phosphorylations and Dephosporylations And Molecular dynamics The collisions And interactions, and separations And ionic currents and potentials And somewhere we know That we have these Images Of parts of our lives Somewhere In a most magical state Of compression Linked in Some magical way To our hearts our souls. And there they are Called in an instant In my mind Standing at the rail Waving goodbye They and I with Brave faces So long ago My beloved Parents And there we are My sweaty hands And that moment of comprehension That all will be well As we look One at another Just before Our wedding My wife And I And there she is Legs pumping furiously The tricycle out ahead But I know soon On my side Clinging like A sucker-tube fish And I will be walking With the trike In my other hand My daughter and I All the eyes And hands I have seen Are there. And these Images are in your heart too My beloved patient And we comprehend this In the most instantaneous And magical way Somewhere Among the first principles And the grand-unified model And our souls. That we are the same —Lawrence A. Solberg, PhD, MD Severe Graft Versus Host Disease So I am seeing you Somehow with the eyes of your Mother and your Father and those who love you.. My own of course As if God and existence were pausing With respect for you and seeing you Through my eyes! I rub your back I try to encourage you With words I see your swollen painful mouth Your pain and your drool You look at me And you are still So kind as to say “thank you!” So I go home Believing those whom I have loved My patients Those walking next to me for so long On our way to God They are pulling me Always Toward the good I can not achieve alone. —Lawrence A. Solberg, PhD, MD