Dead Cells
I almost don’t remember a time before this,
Before hospitals, beeping machines, cannulas , infusions, injections and pain.
What it was like to get up out of my own bed, wash and dress myself
Walk the dog, eat what I wanted when i wanted.
To not be laying staring out a dirty window at the world beyond
As it rushes ahead with out me.
My life, and my loved ones lives on pause while we wait to see how bad this is.
How much will I get back of my ruined right limbs who lie flaccid when I try to move them.
It feels hopeless, I feel hopeless.
I look down at my hand willing it to move with every ounce of my being
The fingers twitch and move a little and I am renewed.
(I was recently in hospital for a month following a stroke, I will write more about that but want to share a couple of poems I wrote while in there.)
Before hospitals, beeping machines, cannulas , infusions, injections and pain.
What it was like to get up out of my own bed, wash and dress myself
Walk the dog, eat what I wanted when i wanted.
To not be laying staring out a dirty window at the world beyond
As it rushes ahead with out me.
My life, and my loved ones lives on pause while we wait to see how bad this is.
How much will I get back of my ruined right limbs who lie flaccid when I try to move them.
It feels hopeless, I feel hopeless.
I look down at my hand willing it to move with every ounce of my being
The fingers twitch and move a little and I am renewed.
(I was recently in hospital for a month following a stroke, I will write more about that but want to share a couple of poems I wrote while in there.)
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