Monday, September 10, 2018

poetic asides something goes wrong

Little Sister

In June, cellulitis took over my right arm
and it took two rounds of antibiotics
to convince the painful itching that
it didn’t belong there, but before
the pink faded, pain in my right shoulder
showed up with a vengeance. Chiropractor
and team busily set about manipulating
my bones until the pain reluctantly softened,
but a nerve got pinched and took it out
on my right hand which alternately
tingles, feels like it’s gripping gravel,
or on fire, scalded or stuck with needles.

Rubbing it helps and I do it so much
that Hubby says it looks like I’m petting
a dog. So I named my right hand Little Sister
and patiently wait until the docs figure out
what to do with my pet hand. Meanwhile
Big Sister is getting impatient from doing
all the work. Did you ever type a poem
using only your left hand? I did.
So after three months, I’m sleeping little
and petting and naming my right hand
like it’s a dog, hoping something
will go right with my right hand soon.

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