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

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I’m Broken (Version #2)