Art destruction by ISIS is shame to Muslims
Reality is culture shown without destruction
Time is culture shown without shame of destruction
Syrians run away from shame
You are about to bring shame
Monday, September 3, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: sad
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
"Until now I'd lost all hope with life's little experiences, " is what I said to my psychotherapist. I had been seeing him for a month now. Lost two months of work, an ankle, and my hospice experience I was still trying to cope with. The near death experience of flesh eating bacteria was still not even brought up. I was still trying to get into a better frame of mind on how a doctor had sent me home to die. Miracles happen everyday they say. I am a living example of that.
The hospice stay had happened right after losing a foot long three each cut from my ankle up towards my knee. The flesh eating bacteria had not been spotted or correctly diagnosed to begin with.
My story to the psychotherapist I went to the doctors office. I had moved recently from Texas to Utah and was having issues with my body that I could not understand. At work my boss had recently asked me to fudge a three million dollar mistake which my mind could not handle. To do the work I went in on an off Friday. I got in and was sick. I went to my doctor. My glucose levels were high 300 but considered normal if on medicine. The doctor told me to exercise. So being a good person I went and joined a gym right from that doctor's office. I had changed clothes so upon joining I worked out. Lifting 10,000 pounds of weight. I then discovered that the locker room was dirty beyond compare. So instead of showering I went to the movie theater and watch World War Z.
During the movie I felt a bit on my ankle. Thinking nothing of it I continued to watch the movie. After the movie I went outside and throw up in the parking lot. I got home showered and noticed that my ankle was large and hurt when I walked. Thinking I must have sprained it I put it up for the weekend and did nothing. Saturday and Sunday I did not eat much of anything and did very little work around the house. My family was away on vacation so other than feed the fish I really did nothing.
Monday I went into work. I was sick. I went to an Emergency Medical clinic. They did xrays and declared me okay with some pain medicine. That night I started to throw up everything. Water at least three gallons, food, everything. I went to an emergency clinic a few blocks away. They ran some tests and ambulanced me over to a hospital.
At the ICU I was placed for two days before being moved to the terminal cancer wing of the hospital. My body could not handle whatever was going on. I lost 11 pounds in seven days. I got tired of wearing diapers because I could not hold anything in so I covered myself and had a paper wrap to remove the shit.
The doctor did not seem impressed. In fact five days later he let me go home on July 3rd. I got a very hot taxi ride to home. There I was sick. My neighbors seeing me called the fire department and were concerned. The fire department showed up and listened to my story and told me to walk it off.
The nurse a couple hours later showed up to set up an antibacterial drip after seeing me and checking me she gave me 15 dollars for a taxi ride to the hospital. I showed up July 3rd at 1158 same day that I had been released. July 4th they discovered the issue that my ankle had died. They removed a section of my ankle up towards my knee.
Upon waking up a nurse came in and said are you ready. Being not sure of what she meant and interested I watched. She grabbed the gauss on my ankle and pulled it all off the area. Upon seeing my ankle bone I fainted.
For the next couple of weeks they kept me in the critical wing due to not knowing why I continued to throw up and have diarrhea. My body was having acute acid reflux enough that I lost 10 more pounds.
Upon their discovery I was moved to a old folks home. For two weeks I wandered the halls and thought that the place was a miracle place. I could not sleep so walking or limping on crutches I would pass people at 4 AM and wave to them. The next day they were not there. I did not understand. Then one day at 3 AM I was walking when the clean up crew was there taking out the bodies of the people that I had just waved to an hour or so ago to. I was in a hospice.
I stopped walking as much as I had. I started watching television. I watched all the antique roadshow, and reality shows that were on. My depression was bad at this point. The medicine they gave me was wild. I started talking to people that the staff could not talk with. You ever wonder what people that no one can understand talk about? Gossip about who has passed away, why the staff forgot someone for lunch, showers if one was given one or not and who the staff liked and did not like. Now imagine all this communication being done in front of the staff and the staff not hearing any of it. Wild as I got better I started asking the staff to remember people that they forgot for lunch and other people. But I got better and they moved me out of the hospice wing. With the medicine withdraw I started to not understand the people that I had been with for the past three weeks.
My job called during this time and dismissed me. To say my mind was hard up was an understatement.
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