This poem is dedicated to my friend Alex, who also battles TM. She helped spark this poem; we were having a deep conversation about this topic a couple weeks ago. She appears in this poem as "a girl". :p
Our TM stories are very different, and yet we can still relate to each other in many ways!! I thought having another story interwoven into this poem would help get the point across, since the "little thing" vary from person to person. :) Enjoy! I'm proud of this one. From the time I could hold a pencil, Could form shaky letters with the graphite tip, Only semi-legible, I loved to write. I'd write stories, Imaginative and mysterious, About wizards and dragons and princesses; About talking flowers and animals, and taking a trip to the moon. When I was a child, I had a routine with my father. A few days a week we'd practice pull-ups in the basement. He taught me a lot about life with those pull-ups: "You can always try to do one more." He taught me to push myself, and push myself I did, In every aspect of my life. I loved roller coasters, Especially ones With the biggest drop. I loved the feeling of my stomach in my chest And screaming loudly with my arms in the air. I know a girl Who loved fuzzy socks and hot showers, And skipping and dancing while she walked. When you're paralyzed, When you have a chronic illness, A lot is taken away. I can't walk well; she can't at all. We can't run or ride a bike, And both of us Have overwhelming Pain and fatigue. We're teenagers, And can't keep up with our homework, Let alone our friends. But that's not what puts a lump in our throats everyday. When I think of the little things, Like writing with my right hand, Or doing pull-ups with my dad, My heart Aches. When I think of riding a roller coaster, When I think of the pleasant drop of my stomach Instead of dizziness and pain That lasts for Hours, I feel sick. I miss them, The little things in life. When people look at someone who's disabled, When they find out what ails them, They say that they'll Learn To appreciate the obvious Like walking and running. But that's hardly what people take for granted. That girl Cannot feel the warmth of the water dripping from the shower head On her legs; It's something most of you experience Every. Single. Day. No one would give it a second thought, And yet she'd kill to be able to feel it Just once more. It might not seem like much, Since she can't feel the wind traveling through her hair As she runs, Or move anywhere Without pushing the metal rims On hard rubber wheels. And yet, When she sees the water Slashing across her lifeless legs Every day, The warmth is what she imagines and longs for. Not walking. You write with your dominant hand Every Single Day. You use it to write out checks, To scribble out a grocery list, To write a quick note to your mom: "I'm at Jane's house". You've written like that since kindergarten; There's no reason to give it A second thought. But I miss it. I miss writing with my right hand, But I can't. Paralysis has ruined it And it's doubtful it'll be "Fixed". Yes, it's the little things that hurt the most; We may never know them again. It's the little things that make my heart ache, That make me the most nostalgic. It's the little things I most often wish to have back. The minuscule, "Unimportant" Things are the ones we do Every day. The things that are part of a routine, The ones we are most used to, Are small puzzle pieces in life That leave holes When taken away. And we want to find those pieces, To put them back where they belong Because they create a sense Of normalcy. Because when so much of your life has been taken away, When so much is missing, You crave the little things Day After Day.
0 Comments
When you're diagnosed with TM (or anything similar), and you're paralyzed, you freak out and wonder if it's forever. Because being paralyzed, being "trapped" in a body that can't move the way you want it to, seems like the worst thing ever. You don't think it could happen to YOU, and when it does it's scary. But it's easy to adapt to, easy to get used to. Sure, it's not ideal; I mean, no one wants to be in a wheelchair. No one wants to be unable to walk, run, jump, and all that. Nobody wants that part of their life taken away, but when it happens, it doesn't end up being that bad. The pain, fatigue, flare-ups, etc. are what really make you miserable. You can do anything an able-bodied person can do when you're disabled; it just takes some creativity sometimes. But the other complications are what really hold you back and make you feel trapped. That's what bothers me daily, what I wish every day to escape from.
|
AboutHi, I'm Jen Starzec, and I'm 19 years old. I write a lot about disability and chronic illness, especially related to my main disorder, Transverse Myelitis. I also have a lot of poetry and some short stories. Enjoy! Categories
All
Archives
June 2017
Other Sites
|