Next up for Exploring Dysautonomia Through the Arts is Patricia. She captures the frustration of living with chronic illness so well in her poem.
I was given my diagnosis as an aside about three years ago after the usual 'pin-ball' ride of medics who had no clue what was wrong except it was probably 'my age' or 'all in my head' and anti-depressants would surely make me feel better, they just made me angry! and they were the doctors who were actually pleasant and non-arrogant.
My life now, succinctly, makes me feel like I am a badly wrapped parcel that has been left in the sorting office as the address label is illegible. This poem is a small portion of the feelings I experience in various amounts on a day to day basis. But there are one or two people who keep me going, loving in flesh and in the cyber-space, they know who they are! x
Chronic Life
A sorry path of wasted days
look back again and see them trailing
like broken feathers,
from 'game birds' flailing.
A sorry trail of wasted 'friends'
'at loss' for words to heal your ills,
fall one by one along the wayside
the box of 'use to be's' soon fills.
A sorry string of knowlege gained
from sites and books to speed a cure,
frustrated by the NHS
you're just a number that's for sure.
A sorry line of social gatherings
that you've refused or left at speed,
so overwhelmed by those sensations
your 'joie de vivre' they use to feed.
A sorry knotted snake of gut loops,
my peristalsis shot to hell,
plain rice or figs; how best to feed it,
a figgy cramp or 'pregnant swell'?
A sorry tale of 'loving' family
impatient with this useless you,
who wish you would just 'pull together'
oh, were that simply mine to do!
A sorry path of wasted days
look back again and see them trailing
like broken feathers,
from 'game birds' flailing.
A sorry trail of wasted 'friends'
'at loss' for words to heal your ills,
fall one by one along the wayside
the box of 'use to be's' soon fills.
A sorry string of knowlege gained
from sites and books to speed a cure,
frustrated by the NHS
you're just a number that's for sure.
A sorry line of social gatherings
that you've refused or left at speed,
so overwhelmed by those sensations
your 'joie de vivre' they use to feed.
A sorry knotted snake of gut loops,
my peristalsis shot to hell,
plain rice or figs; how best to feed it,
a figgy cramp or 'pregnant swell'?
A sorry tale of 'loving' family
impatient with this useless you,
who wish you would just 'pull together'
oh, were that simply mine to do!
For more information on Dysautonomia be sure to check out:
Remember to head on over here to donate to my Clicking My Heels For Dysautonomia, raising money for the Greg Page Fund for Orthostatic Intolerance and Dysautonomia research, at The Baker IDI. Thanks to the generosity of many we've already raised over $2,900, keep donating and hopefully we can reach $10,000.
well said
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