It brings the parade
Of all the Greek suffixes
“The study of…”
As though I am a faulty machine
A misfiring engine to be corrected
It brings the experiment
First one medicine and then the next
And then the answer
Eventually
To continue all
As my dreams are broken
By lungs screaming
As my days are punctuated
By slow suffocation
As I wait
I wait
For ears to listen
And scientific minds to seek an answer
Not the stopgap
Of drowning every fourth hour
Or remaining upright
While my body seeks rest
But, no – I must become
The physician
To heal myself
Where others will not
No matter their years of study
No matter their specialty
No
In the end, it is the poet
The writer
The lover of language
Who must find the solution
And the medicine
To heal – Caroline A. Slee
Lovely! This poem totally encompasses what I felt like for half of my life. Really did feel like a faulty machine. I just did a blog post describing the essence of what my asthma experience was like. Would you mind giving it a read and tell me what you think. Thank you!
You can check it out here γγγ https://beautybirdjournal.home.blog/2020/04/08/it-aint-easy-being-wheezy
Giovanna π
I totally know how you feel! Your post was an excellent description – and it brought me back to what this felt like as a child. Hugs to you, and well wishes for this very crazy time. Stay healthy and safe, and thank you for your comment. π
Thank you so much! π It’s something 10x more frightening to have to to through right now. Stay save and be strong. We’ve fought bigger battles! π