Emergency Room
The room spins around you
Vertically and Horizontally
Get a tingle in the left portion of your brain
And numbness
And weakness
Down your entire left side
Down your neck and arm
Down your chest and thigh and leg
Throughout your bony structure and thin painted skin
And you wonder
Is the world rotating
Is this me and will I wake up myself
Again?
And you wonder
Will someone catch me
Or will I hit the floor?
And after doing money exchanges
And getting beverage for thirst and food for consumption
You veer left
Walking left
And prop yourself against the wall
Head toward the elevator
And wonder
Does anyone see this?
Successfully placing yourself on a lift
You arrive in style
Brain warm
And you wonder
Who to call first or what to do and how to shed a tear
For I know I’m still me today
But what about tomorrow?
And you wonder
Who will know
And who will not
Who will get to speak with me
And who will not?
And you wonder
Who will pay rent
And who will pay for food
Who will pay for this
And who for that?
As you take the twenty-one dollar cab ride home
Or your favorite spot by the little red light house
Just under the George Washington Bridge
Columbia Presbyterian Medical Center
You run across familiar architecture and a path you’ve always known
And you look up at the American Flag and remember the 12th
And you remember glass and tests and dots and pancakes and bananas and
sheets and pillows and laws and rules and black and white and tunnels and
peace symbols and doors with nails
And as you approach
And tell the story again
See a familiar face again
And a warm smile
You realize
It’s still you, just a change,
Not a choice, not a time, just a change
And all that’s in your head
Is a single thought
Of those who you cannot get out of your mind
As you sit there
In a New York City Hospital
You wonder why you cannot have a normal room
Or who is normal?
I sit in the GYN room full with stirrups and I act and joke and be me
Talk of more MRIs and Spinal Taps
Nothing new
Just had a CT scan and EKG, no Spect Scan or EEG or Angiogram this time
Take my blood, prick me, tickle me, stick me, and tell me I’m a mystery
Welcome on board
Now I can cry with the music I cannot hear
Mirrors can’t be seen
The windows are hidden
And those who you wish cared, did not
And those who are blind, remain blind
And you know the only thing you’ve got
Is the one person who is in your world
Yourself
Myself
Me
And you know it’s not a dream
You aren’t even testing yourself
Images of the past come and go
And all you can do is smile
Because you know you are in medical history
But more importantly
You know it will be sunny the next day,
McDonalds French fries taste great,
movies rewind,
and someone is waiting for your return with a smile I’ll never forget
© 2000 David Greg Harth
00.02.14.23:55:02 @ 296 NYC
00.02.16.01:45:13 @ 296 NYC