October 2003 - Tower - Page 5
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A Conspiracy of Concern
When you think you're fine --(Well yes, there is some pain)
muscles that moved effortlessly
now stumble into objects
like stabbing needles
and doctor's stethoscopes.
When you think you're fine
you are suddenly shivering
in a flimsy garment that opens
to expose all those personal places
we had been told as children were private.
Now your arm is strangled by a cuff with a dial.
When the pain is unbearable
the cuff deflates, but slowly,
with recovery time at least half an hour.
When you think you're fine
the nurse rolls up your sleeve
poking probing hoping
a vein will spurt like a soda machine.
When you think you're fine
the EKG rolls in like a detective
to reveal all those problems
you'd prefer to remain undercover,
the heart rate and cholesterol,
always higher than expected,
like unpaid bills.
When you think you're fine
business cards of several doctors
are thrust into your hand
along with a bill -- a conspiracy of concern,
specialists to control
your dulled hearing, your enlarged heart
your swollen feet, and your entire life!
Until today you thought your entire body belonged to you
while the nurse smilingly photographs tremors and vessels,
magnifies any rash problems
with detailed explanation
spoken objectively.
So there is this body,
fragile
impaired
needy
awaiting simultaneous therapies
to cover all problems
like a security blanket
Out you trudge, lowered head,
prescriptions blooming white from each pocket.
The guarantee -- if they don't work
simply return the unused portion of your body
for a complete refund.
Nannette Hoffman
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