I’m shaped like a smile,
and I’ll be around for a while.
I get stuck in blood vessels blocking the flow,
keeping oxygen from organs and they don’t even know
until they start feeling pain. It’s like being in the rain not expecting to get wet.
They know the pain is coming it's just a matter of when,
and its like it’s a shock to them time and time again.
There is no way to take the abuse that I bestow,
making blood counts drop low,
causing major complications
and creating indications that life is not worth living.
With each crisis I leave patients in confusion,
about the delusion that they are like everybody else.
The pain crisis duration and the miseducation adds to the frustration.
Their narcotic concoction does all it can but the pain just won’t go away.
The patient is in suspense when the nurse refuses to dispense,
What the doctor has ordered in the charts.
By manipulating the system she gets it her way
And patient is stuck with her for the day.
She walks into the room without any grace,
She says rate your pain with that look on her face.
So they try to pretend,
That it’s not at a 10,
So she won’t think what she already does.
The drugs that they use to try to diffuse the pain is only a temporary fix.
It can never replace the soothing touch of a hand,
or a visitor who is there trying to understand.
The battle is heated and they fight for their life,
but I’m their opponent and I cut like knife.
Many have fallen by the swing of my sword,
Despite all their cries to their Lord.
A few of them are trying to shed some light
But without your help, it won’t shine very bright.
By: Phyllis Zachery-Thomas
