By Xiaogang Zhao
I am ground glass opacity (GGO) in the lung,
A vague figure shrouded in mystery and strangeness,
Like looking at the moon through clouds,
Like seeing beautiful flowers in the fog.
I long to be king,
With my fellows swimming in every vessel.
My people crawl in your organs and body,
Holding the rights for life or death, I tremble with excitement.
When young you called me “atypical adenomatous hyperplasia”,
Then when I had matured, you declared me “adenocarcinoma in situ”,
When fully developed, your fearful denomination: “invasive adenocarcinoma”.
You forgot my strenuous journey to become the king.
From tiny to strong,
From humble to arrogant.
None cared when I was young,
But all fear me we when full grown.
I’ve been nourished on the delicious mist and haze,
That sweetly warmed my heart,
Always loving when you were heavy drunk and smoking,
Creating me a cozy home.
When I was less than eight millimeters, I was so fragile,
Waiting for a chance to grow up.
Now, more than eight millimeters, I am more mature,
And considered worthy of notice.
My continuous growth gives me a chance to be king,
As I break through layers of obstacles,
Spanning the mountains and waters.
My fellows march to every corner and occupy every region.
My quest to become king was full of obstacles,
I was cut until almost dead in childhood,
Burned once I’d matured,
And poisoned when older.
Happiness after sorrow, rainbow after rain.
I faced surgery, radiotherapy, and chemotherapy,
But continued to chase my dream,
Some would have given up, but I will be the king.
I long to be king, with fellows and subordinates,
I long to be king, to have people’s fear and respect
I long to be king, to dominate my domain,
I long to be king, to direct your fate.