MRIs, Music, and Me

In keeping with my plan, here is my next poem.

Be warned, it is horrible.

The time has come for my next MRI.

The Shepherd Center is my objective,
And I arrive with hopes reaching the sky.
No new lesions! Rituxan’s effective!

I must keep still for an hour, or more
While the machine examines my brain.
The droning lures me to sleep, and I snore,
Listening to the numbing beats galore.

Soon it will be the time for my next scan.
To sit for an hour in the device
And then discuss with my doctor the plan
Of how to treat MS, with his advice.

So, then in six months time I will return
For my next scan to see what I can learn.

I'll Drink To That

Bottoms Up
or
Down the Hatch
or 
Or hundreds of other ways to say, "Lets drink!"

To sit calmly and enjoy a good draft
Of beer sitting at home or at the bar,
While I savor the brew-master's craft. 
I think of the beers in my repertoire

Thanks to this MesS I more easily feel
Alcohol’s buzz as it enters my brain.
This allows me to handle the ordeal
By helping me see the fun through the pain.

Alcohol might be proof that God loves us.
The flavors and potency also show
Alcohol as a gift most generous,
And happily I let spirits flow.


There’s a hidden benefit in this MesS:
To feel a good buzz will cost me much less.

Respite, Holiday, Recreation, Intermission, Sabbatical

Take A Break

Vacations now require extensive

Plans. So that the dependability

Of my wheelchair will grant comprehensive

Preservation of my mobility

Now the time has come for a camping trip,

Always taken in the late Fall season.

Summer’s unbearable heat, I must skip.

Dodging Spring’s rain is the other reason.

I now can enjoy camping in a tent,

But there are still some dangers to avoid.

I don’t want my energy to be spent

On trifles and my endurance destroyed.

Yet, in spite of the work that is needed,

I enjoy vacations unimpeded.

Summer's Hell Begins With:

😱💀Sonnets💀😱

     I know that I should have employed this genre in April. But, there are two very different and compelling reasons as to why I did not. First, as Eliot said, "April is the cruelest month." For me, April's constantly altering temperatures and humidity increase the severity of my symptoms with this MesS. Secondly, and much more importantly, the realization of this did not hit me until the middle of April, and, as I had already started my month of Haiku, I could not bring myself to change my path. Therefore, what follows is my first attempt at a month of English/Shakespearean sonnets.

Summer

As the days grow warmer, symptoms increase

In their frequency and severity.

I remain in my house, seeking surcease,

Guarding my cool air with ferocity.

Summer nights can be slightly bearable,

Providing shade from the malicious sun,

But humidity remains terrible,

Summer’s seasonal hell has now begun.

Air conditioning will also relieve

And abate the constantly climbing heat.

With cooler air granting me a reprieve.

I will not be subdued, face defeat!

Yet, despite the heat, I will abide

To watch my children as they play outside.

-Josh Evitt 2019