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A poem about being sick. Pick an illness, any illness.
Somewriter in Health
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Multiple Sclerosis

 "You have MS ?, but you don't look sick."  I get this a lot.

One day after being treated for lost vision in my left eye, I asked the specialist,

"What caused this 'Optic Neuritis' "?  He calmly said, "You have MS".

 "You must be mistaken, how could you say such a thing?" 

Life as I once knew it would be changed forever.  There was so much

to learn. I'm too tired. Life is passing me while I sleep.

The needles make me feel like I have the flu.  

Sometimes different body parts hurt.  I must continue to move.  I shudder

to think what would happen if I constantly give in to the pain.  I like moving

in the water, so I go to a pool. 

Then, there is the annual MRI.  They want me to go into the closed kind to

get the best picture. This frightens me. So, they numb my emotions with drugs.  

Later, we look at the pictures to check for lesions.  They look like 

lightening bugs that we see outside on a summer night.  But we hope

the picture is not so fascinating.

 MS is not a death sentence. You learn to live with it.

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