…
Once upon a time there lived
two Latin viruses named
Bacterium and Staphylococcus.
Tag: <span>doctors</span>
Time is crawling, not flying as usual. Seven more days! Next Monday at 8 am I will sit or lie in a cold hospital room, talking to doctors and nurses I have never met (and hope to never meet again) because meeting them again would be bad news I suppose. Biopsy!
“I am a patient” I whisper in my head
and I should be treated like one.
Please take care of me
as I lie in this bed
with my insides burning
scared to death of this disease.
My bones ache
I tremble and sweat
and cry staring out the window at the parking garage
where my car is, waiting for me to escape this nightmare.
I wish I could say I’m here because I’m brave
but the truth is I’m trapped here by my body’s rebellion
There is a very special place
that has no particular choice of race,
of color, creed or religious faith.
No sex or age discrimination
just a firm and solid determination
to invite you into the dancing hall
where beds are lined up against the wall
and nice people offer more than any
to make you feel like you’re in the Land of Plenty.
This is the apocalypse
A daffodil has poked its head up
from the dirt and opened
sunny arms to bluer skies
yet I am filled with
dark and anxious dread
as theaters close as travel ends and
grocery stores display their empty rows
where toilet paper liquid bleach
and bags of flour stood in upright ranks.
Being a nurse or caregiver is a calling, a calling I did not receive.
Caretakers are kind and gentle, they are patient and seem to be always in a good mood. I am afraid I am rather the opposite. I am ironic and perhaps a bit sarcastic, and I don’t have a filter between brain and mouth, which is not helpful at all right now.
My neighbor across the street is fighting the demon so many of us will have to fight in our lifetime. She has cancer, stage IV, and the outlook is not good, not good at all.
I wanted to write about this since a while, but I never really found the right words, so I kicked the can down the road. This week I heard the sad news about Glenn Frey’s death and that gave me the motivation I needed to write about it. I didn’t even know that Glenn, a founding member of the Eagles, was sick and tortured by the same evil disease.
A month, not even a month. My next doctors appointment is on June 15th and I am anxious. I want to know, if I am on the right track. I feel that I am and hope the results then will back me up. See, my doctors don’t know that I took myself of the medications, I decided not to tell them. I won’t tell them right away either, when I will sit in their office in June. I want to see what they have to say first. I want to see the results of the tests and blood work first. I want to know, if I made progress or if things got worse. If they got worse, well. then I screwed up….big time. But I don’t think so.
It is hard to surprise me, but this small movie did. A friend send it to me on Mother’s Day and it left me speechless and smiling. I just didn’t…