Medical Trauma

I am not a complainer by nature.

When the surgeon asks, "How are you doing?"

and I say, "I would like to revise my other side.”

I know I look calm and poised.

I know I suggest it in a pleasant manner.

But that DOES NOT mean I want to have brain surgery for funsies.

 

Hell NO!

Brain surgery sucks. No offense meant.

But recovery wrecks my life for months.

I can't be the mom I long to be.

The wife I used to be.

Or the therapist I need to be.

I am choosing this Hell a fourth time

because I am currently living in it anyway.

Every time the dishwasher runs.

Every time my 9 year old is himself -- a loud rambunctious little boy.

Each time my husband constructs something magnificent, I can't walk steadily for the rest of the day.

What am I supposed to do? Ask them to stop? Earplugs only help so much.

Nah, bro.

I am asking for you to cut my head open

so I can give them THEIR lives back.

So they don't have to dance around me anymore.

It's such a chore to be the one everyone works around.

Can you imagine what it’s like for them?

It's not about me. It's not about your numbers.

I just want my world to stop swaying with every clangor.

I want my world to stand still for THEM.

Even the air conditioner sets me back. But you didn't ask me that.

I could see it in your face.

I know the look by now,

I've had plenty of medical trauma

before reaching your virtual office space.

You could hardly wait to shut the metaphorical door in my face.

Wondering when my soul sucking need for surgery is going to end.

Well let me tell you, my friend,

I am also waiting to see how this story ends.

Like on it our lives depend.

#MedicalTrauma #SCDS #BrainSugery #ChronicIllness #MyPoeticJourneyToHealing