Song Lyrics
“NSIP – The Cellular Type”
(Verse 1) Twenty-six, but feeling old My fingers turning blue from cold The doc says, “Raynaud’s,” and he nods But now my breath is at odds. My skin is tight, (Scleroderma) A cough at night, (Scleroderma) I try to breathe, my chest is tight, And crackles whisper in the light.
(Chorus) Oh, it’s NSIP – The Cellular Type Not the usual fibrotic hype. It’s not the honeycombing scar, It’s written on the CT bar. A “ground-glass” haze, a fuzzy cloud, That spares the pleura, speaks out loud. Oh, cellular NSIP.
(Verse 2) The scan goes ’round, the doctor sees, In the lower lobes, among the trees. A “peripheral” fog, a hazy view, In the apical segments, something’s new. Reticulation, a net so fine, The airways stretching (bronchiolectasis), a warning sign. He says, “It’s classic with your disease, It’s inflammation, not at ease.”
(Chorus) Oh, it’s NSIP – The Cellular Type Not the usual fibrotic hype. It’s not the honeycombing scar, It’s written on the CT bar. A “ground-glass” haze, a fuzzy cloud, That spares the pleura, speaks out loud. Oh, cellular NSIP.
(Bridge) Scleroderma, you take too much, My skin, my joints, my lungs, your touch. But “cellular” means there’s hope to fight, To clear the haze and win the light. It’s not the end, it’s not UIP, It’s inflammation, and we can treat.
(Outro) The fingers blue… The crackles, too… The GGO… Cellular NSIP… we see you.
Poem
The Ground-Glass Warning
At twenty-six, the cold’s a vice, My fingers, blue, a block of ice. The doctor calls it “Raynaud’s,” true, But now my breath is failing, too. The skin is tight, a scleroderma sign, And crackles mark a new design, A cough at night, a chest that’s tight, A whisper in the fading light.
The scanner sees the telling view: A “ground-glass” haze, a fuzzy, new, And “peripheral” fog that clings To apical segments, troubling things. It’s not the scar, the fibrotic hype, It is the Cellular NSIP type. A net so fine, the airways stretch, A warning sign, a fragile sketch.
But look! The very outer line, That subpleural edge, a hopeful sign, Is spared! The fuzzy cloud stays in, A different battle to begin. This isn’t UIP, the final plea, It’s inflammation, (the GGO). A sign that means there’s hope to fight, To clear the haze and win the light.