Pandemic Reality Part Seven

The hospital is short staffed and full was his cry,

I don’t want my staff to get sick and die;

I can’t breathe, my lips are blue, said I,

You should have stayed home, was his blind eye.

Three emergency room visits did I make,

Two visits went well, the last doctor a snake;

What do you want, his voice a quake;

I want to breathe, I cried out for my sake.

© Mary L. Schmidt December 2020

2 thoughts on “Pandemic Reality Part Seven

    • Oh Gwen… The poem is much more. I will shared the whole thing in here. I’m only sharing two stanzas at a time on my blog. Pandemic Reality
      By Mary L Schmidt, 20 November 2020

      Here I am at home, completely alone,
      Full of loneliness, in isolation with my phone;
      One mutating virus separates us like a cyclone,
      Not one safe place to go, only home I bemoan.

      Wash, wash, wash, no hands touching,
      With family and friends, no longer hugging;
      As I try to breathe, my lungs are struggling,
      As my heart, chest and alveoli are crushing.

      One single virus brought me to my knees,
      With each new day, my lungs squeeze;
      I dread every day and I’m not at ease,
      My symptoms worsen with this disease.

      To the emergency room, I did go,
      Positive for Covid-19, now I know;
      My husband had a simple sinus infection, though;
      Too late for me, little did we know?

      He developed lethargy, and didn’t want to eat,
      I gave him tasty foods that were sweet;
      In an effort to help him eat better, I was upbeat,
      Until the day I became viral incomplete.

      With the Covid -19, I felt as if thrown,
      Lost all scent and taste, desired not a scone;
      Aching deep pain in every single bone,
      The emergency room doctor said to lay prone.

      My husband better, he was a false negative,
      Yet my rapid test was a huge positive;
      Received IV fluids and medicine, left me contemplative,
      The doctor said to go home, I had no alternative.

      Couldn’t taste food, but found peppered scrambled eggs worked,
      My husband scrambled eggs with pepper every day, feeling overworked;
      I could feed myself and drink; I could do it I chirped,
      With my husband next to me, he simply lurked.

      Shortness of breath and dizziness prevailed,
      My husband increased my oxygen, I inhaled;
      Falling to my knees as I walked, I surely failed;
      With my husband at my side, falls curtailed.

      Covid-19 zapped all of my strength and muscle,
      Baby steps, baby steps, no need to hustle;
      With further decline, I truly felt like rubble,
      My husband did well to make sense of my puzzle.

      Never sleep on your back in recliner or a bed,
      Your lungs can’t aerate, the doctor said;
      My husband repositioned me, I felt like lead,
      With a gentle touch his love shown, and said.

      I slept on either side or partly prone,
      Slept three hours, then awake I would moan;
      Dexamethasone, my new drug did I intone,
      Dreading the side effects, I did indeed groan.

      The hospital is short staffed and full was his cry,
      I don’t want my staff to get sick and die;
      I can’t breathe, my lips are blue, said I,
      You should have stayed home, was his blind eye.

      Three emergency room visits did I make,
      Two visits went well, the last doctor a snake;
      What do you want, his voice a quake;
      I want to breathe, I cried out for my sake.

      Labs, chest x-rays, fluids and medicine given,
      Then back home as my husband had driven;
      Once home, he helped me inside as bidden,
      A simple sinus infection had much ambition.

      My husband gently shampooed and showered me,
      While I stood next to him, my bone pain beastly;
      Gently he combed my hair, dried and dressed me,
      Ten steps at a time, dizziness swirled like the sea.

      Two weeks of 24 hour cares from my husband, I received,
      My cough and shortness of breath unrelieved;
      My time on Earth was short, I perceived,
      I knew my husband and son would be bereaved.

      Sure enough, many more people were stricken,
      Businesses and churches closed or destroyed with division;
      Wear a mask and wash hands was the new condition,
      A mantra of six feet apart was the new volition.

      Discharged home with Covid-19 pneumonia,
      Loss of taste and scent, no smell from the begonia;
      Weakness of speech, now hypophonia,
      I was sent home without my nurse, Sonja.

      I’m a statistic, one who survived, on the long haul,
      Fighting, struggling, yet scared as I bawl;
      It seemed life kept throwing a curve ball,
      Everyone watched and awaited my downfall.

      Too sick to dress or apply makeup,
      I went to the doctor for a follow up;
      Sipping clean water from a paper cup,
      I’m afraid if I fall asleep, I might not wake up,

      Now I’m on the long haul of this Covid-19 virus,
      One small droplet of a viral germ not desirous;
      Relentlessly, it still wreaks havoc like a bad retrovirus,
      God’s faithful healing and prayers of many inspire us.

      It didn’t matter, my saturations and respiratory failure,
      No beds left in the hospital, everything was a blur;
      No one there, I felt lost at sea like a lone sailor,
      Slowly I became well with faith in Jesus, my savior.

      He wanted me alive, my work not yet complete,
      I started teaching about Covid-19 via a tweet;
      Honest suggestions for all with each heart beat,
      Doing His work, teaching, giving of self so sweet.
      By Mary L Schmidt, 20 November 2020

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