In piecesby r.m.jacobs First came the migraines so strong I watched you vomit out the crushing pain that slammed you to the ground sunlight rarely welcomed your slight frame weighed down with elephant sized fatigue carrying with it on it’s back a full body searing pain I see you smile through a grimace at the clattering song of a nearby blue jay In know this has stirred fond camping memories as you are traveling back in time to a shared discovery of a magical moss covered forest we both have the pictures IBS snaked through you weakening your very lifeline where diets couldn’t cure and medication didn’t ease the fiery pain ignited at will yet your love shines brighter gathering moments like precious gems Eight molars gathered in extracted remnants of rapid decay after months of chasing infection that dodged all the antibiotic arsenals thrown in like a terrorist’s attack taking as much as possible your mouth now in pieces I watched your tongue experimenting with the pieces of food in your mouth like a toddler’s fascinated oral exploring as you seek out new paths for the food to follow while an amused smile fills your eyes with the awkward dance occurring in your mouth fighting with your brain’s habitual knowledge I saw your bladder bloat you like floater about to be launched off a ship but you were swimming in urine pooled in by an incompetent bladder now you have to pee in pieces catheter, lubricant, towelettes, alcohol, and a bathroom with place for your equipment you bought a bag to carry it all in so you could explore the lake’s edge with a camera looking for beauty recording the moments My mother’s hands fret with pencils at your bedside while you sleep to gain strength scratching out in a soothing sounds picturing what the words could ever say like putting them outwards could bring on a curse when you don’t know how much more you can take a tongue goes silent while my fingers scratch out a gentler way into our realities. Pieces of paper sketches taped to your wall for distraction and recognition Today you force a sip on the apple juice, Waiting for your bottle-feeding to siphon into pulsing strength instead of blowing out candles on a cake that would only be a tease of a life once lived. | Seizures began to play their insidious game of chicken as your newlywed husband’s kisses of life brought you back holding your hand all the way through each excruciating moment of tension for all I’m pleased I got to see those pieces of your love for one another a moment I know you’ll store away to bring out like a life line when you most need a Tyrolean traverse out of the black The will for life and survival driving you on a voyage beyond extreme adventures steeped with risks as your heart rate rises and falls with the various pieces of P.O.T.S. making you faint as you tumble in the night skydiving off the stairs head first into the metal barricade Your hospital bed has become the island of your ship-wreaked heart that isolating you from yourself in movement too much to risk, too much to loose We hug the times we can and reach out on the times we can’t you have a life line from your seclusions An angry gall bladder inflamed and festered drenched with stones and borealis burgdorferi spiraled into every nook and cranny is excised in an all caution zone as the surgeons approach precisely Vomiting, diarrhea, nausea, and Viking sized cramps maroon themselves with you yet your eyes dance with feather light joy as you cajole your children through their gullible innocence Today, today you force a sip on a long straw resting in a scant cup of apple juice while we wait for your bottled feeding to be siphoned into you, pulsing strength through vital vitamins, nutrients and hydration in bits and pieces flowing down a gentle river encased in a tube from nose to stomach Instead of blowing out candles to a song sung by nurses who know you well enough that they come to seek out your company because you give compassion healing them from their stress encapsulated by their day your heart reaches out to those who heal you Today we celebrate your breath Amazon strength, and a life flooded with love worth living another day every moment spent with together a gift knowing your balloons are Lyme 28 years old, a life on the verge of just beginning a wondrous chapter as the newly wed bride rescued by his kiss there is much love to bathe in 28 years old a life on the edge refusing to fall Today we celebrate all the good pieces Tomorrow, we face the stomach that quit the intestinal collapse that cuts into your core and the new way to keep you strong and vital through a tube like an umbilical cord for life |
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DRAWING FOR BRONWYNdrawingforbron blog is a mother daughter collaboration to help raise funds, through a raffle of original art work, to help in her daughter's fight with the ravages of Lyme disease Archives
July 2015
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