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Make yourself at home. Put your feet up. Grab your favorite beverage and prepare to enjoy the reads.
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Showing posts with label osteoporosis. Show all posts
Showing posts with label osteoporosis. Show all posts

Sunday

Dangerous Friend

Steroids save my life,
stop the fantasies
of giving up,
prevent me
from the anguish
of pain
return to me
the skill of ambulation.

Steroids are my dangerous friend.
They make my heart pound
like an angry wind at the door,
but I love how well
they make me feel!
I don't want them!
Osteoporosis results, they say.
I don't have enough
cortisol of my own
to do the job.
I don't want them,
but I need them.

They're like a
Jesus healing
at the big tent,
all the folks in wheel chairs
brought up on stage,
then they dance a jig
down the aisles.
Praise the Lord!
Praise the Lord!

I don't dance jigs
nor go to tent preachers.
I've got the best healing doctor.
With a needle in my spine
filled with steroids,
I can ambulate
down the hallway
without my walking stick,
get in the car and drive
Next weekend I will
assemble the sun shade canopy!
Praise the Lord!
Praise the Lord!

~~~~~~
Note: Picture is from the Turbo Squid website.

Tuesday

Late Birthday

My father would have been 95 years old on Sunday.
I thought about it for a moment, then blocked my mind.
"Don't go there," I told myself, "it will hurt."
Daddy's gone.


He's been gone five years now.
He was sure he would live to 120
So sure...
We were all convinced
if anyone could do it, Dad could.
He had faith.
Dad could do anything he put his mind to.
He broke his hip and claimed never having pain,
Just a little bit he said. No need for pain pills, 
Then passed out when the nurse
helped him to stand.
I was there.
He didn't even grit his teeth.

But, life has a way of twisting up our plans,
dashing our dreams, changing our outlook.
Life has a way of doing things
differently than we expected.
Expectations lead to disappointment.
The best made plans of mice and men...
and all that.



Today I was diagnosed with Osteoporosis.
Dad had it.
He grew shorter and shorter,
until I was taller than he.
Now, I'm told
all I need is an IV
every three months
and that will take care of it.

If only Dad had known.