the healing muse

Volume 9, 2009

The Race

Kathleen Grieger

The seizure eclipses
my speech. Thoughts
remain, yet hushed
from within

With a need
to control my mind quickly
They chase time
trying to start the IV

One nurse grabs a left arm,
the other the right
And I feel they’re
competing for me

Clutching my left hand
she slaps it
A snake charmer
trying to make my vein rise

I dread what she seeks
to accomplish
As her skill promotes
silence in me

I wrest my arm loose,
and she grabs it,
saying, “Silly,
there’s nothing to fear”

I cannot touch my pen
and unable to talk,
can’t convey
how this hand sets me free

How I write, how I sign,
how I’m able to speak
My hand mute,
the distress stays with me

The vein blows
and I breathe a long sigh
As she scouts for a new one
I tremble

The other yells out,
“You can stop now, I’m in”
Her needle in place,
my release

Success brings reprieve
apprehension steps out
as relief comes in waves
over me

My language
has not been expelled
and the shaking
is calmed within me

Return to Table of Contents, Volume 9, 2009.

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