Every cut, every scrape,
Every tear and every heart-break,
Every misgiving we have;
Are etched into our bodies, inside out —
The first time I had brain surgery*
Was at 10 months young - urgently,
Mum said she had to hold me so tight,
for hours, months and years after...
I would scream and scream and scream
till I was done;
Fighting the terrifying body tremors,
that echoed all day long,
Eventually, I calmed as she sang.
Other scars came later —
'heroines' of sporting accidents,
But I didn't notice their impact's radar,
Until the second brain [now AVM] surgery in my 30’s,
When all these scars 'broke loose,'
surrendering in devastating truce —
Resulting in a devastating stroke,
After a novel surgeon made a wrong poke,
And a 40-day coma ensued.
Eventually...
waking up
Numb and in shock,
All senses were blocked;
I couldn't hear, I couldn't walk,
I couldn't see, and I couldn't talk.
Lock[ed] down; in hell —
No tears, no murmurs,
No gargles, no squawks.
Just no sense.
Even now, as I write, my body remembers —
that dreadful season,
Seeded from birth without reason.
Eventually...
I walked, and re-learned to talk.
Accepting my joy and pain as I regained
Hearing and mobility,
Sight, and much later, insight —
Gravely, the grief is still stored in my heart.
Through poetry I've tried,
To make sense of and write,
Every strain and offence,
To help me re-build, lengthen and strengthen.
I pay homage,
To you, my body, knitted together in my mother's womb,
Tested and true,
Though no beauty queen, you are a 'fine' machine,
That doesn't give up,
But writes a new score;
of the treasures in you I adore!
When, now, I open my eyes and see, truly,
the wonders in this world,
outside and inside of me.
Aug 9, 2024
Aug 9, 2024 at 7:54 PM UTC
Every cut, every scrape,
Every tear and every heart-break,
Every misgiving we have;
Are etched into our bodies, inside out —
The first time I had brain surgery*
Was at 10 months young - urgently,
Mum said she had to hold me so tight,
for hours, months and years after...
I would scream and scream and scream
till I was done;
Fighting the terrifying body tremors,
that echoed all day long,
Eventually, I calmed as she sang.
Other scars came later —
'heroines' of sporting accidents,
But I didn't notice their impact's radar,
Until the second brain [now AVM] surgery in my 30’s,
When all these scars 'broke loose,'
surrendering in devastating truce —
Resulting in a devastating stroke,
After a novel surgeon made a wrong poke,
And a 40-day coma ensued.
Eventually...
waking up
Numb and in shock,
All senses were blocked;
I couldn't hear, I couldn't walk,
I couldn't see, and I couldn't talk.
Lock[ed] down; in hell —
No tears, no murmurs,
No gargles, no squawks.
Just no sense.
Even now, as I write, my body remembers —
that dreadful season,
Seeded from birth without reason.
Eventually...
I walked, and re-learned to talk.
Accepting my joy and pain as I regained
Hearing and mobility,
Sight, and much later, insight —
Gravely, the grief is still stored in my heart.
Through poetry I've tried,
To make sense of and write,
Every strain and offence,
To help me re-build, lengthen and strengthen.
I pay homage,
To you, my body, knitted together in my mother's womb,
Tested and true,
Though no beauty queen, you are a 'fine' machine,
That doesn't give up,
But writes a new score;
of the treasures in you I adore!
When, now, I open my eyes and see, truly,
the wonders in this world,
outside and inside of me.
*in the vein of galen. AVM (arteriovenous malformation) surgery involves treating abnormal tangles of blood vessels in the brain or spine, typically to prevent or treat bleeding (hemorrhage).
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