Medical Madness
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This poem points out what occurred when I was misdiagnosed and left to fight for my life and human rights in the face of so many wrong perceptions. It's a shame that anyone should have gone down destructions road twice...but given the fact I made it through a destructive childhood, God was always there to keep me sane and fighting for the truth.
We are more than a label...more than a disability and more than you can see....
WE ARE INSPIRATION!
www/gigglespoet.com Awareness & Inspiration
https://gigglespoet.com/#jp-carousel-66 My scars from a misdiagnosis are my armor
Lord, old memories plague me in the darkness
And as they rear their ugly head
They only remind me of all that I've lost
My life, my freedom, and my children are dead
Dear God, please forgive my anger
For these transgressions that I see
But the medical madness that I have lived through
Almost got the better of me
I have no more need for food or sleep
What I crave most are the sun and air
But, when I look out the window of my sanctuary
I see no signs of the truth anywhere out there
Dear God, it's you I've turned to the most
For answers, courage, and faith
And as I read these medical reports of cruelty
Anger washes over me, replacing the hate
My Lord, I have, but five days to go
Can I hold onto the hope that he'll come to my aid?
I can't close my eyes, I can't find any peace
From the pain these doctors continually create
I see clearly such torture in one operation
And I shake with the echo of hearing my pleas
During the procedure, I felt what they were doing
And when I slipped into unconsciousness, fear followed me
When I woke up in recovery, I felt only doom
All I've done for so long was cry, plead and beg
Now I felt something more when I turned on my machine
The electricity was not reaching my back but was running down both my legs
The same surgeon that implanted the first medical device on my spine
Made an error, turned his back, ignoring my pain
And as I read over his remarks in my medical file
It leaves me reeling in sorrow, reeling in shame
Once again, I was sent back to my prison of silence
I lost the job that I loved and my friends of nine years
I had to find a new surgeon, but no one would touch me
And each night I lay down on my pillow of tears
It took three long years to find another surgeon
He said he would reposition the wires, and put them in place
He smiled as he spoke and promised to help me
I smiled back through my fear, as I looked up at his face
I believed what he promised, but I felt like a fool
As I waited daily in my bed for his call
Severe depression took over, and as days turned into months
My doctor couldn't reach him, and I was climbing the walls
My doctor's husband took over and went to his office
Not leaving until he got my surgery date
Workers Compensation harassed me, wouldn't leave me in peace
They wanted me working, and they wouldn't wait
The day finally came; I had my fifth operation
Another surgeon opened me up, creating a mess
When I woke up much later, I felt such foreboding
When I turned on my machine, I screamed from the stress
Something was wrong with the wiring; the current was closer
But, still gave me no comfort as it had done before
I looked up at the surgeon, feeling lost and sedated
I asked God, how I would get over being sliced open once more
Two weeks later, I was back for my sixth operation
God helped me prepare my mind for what was to come
The wires were fixed, and it was finally over
I went home feeling gratitude for what had been done
Alone with my sorrow, my mind and body felt mangled
I recovered slowly a few more years gone
I asked God for assistance in clearing my heart
I tried to forgive the ones who had done me wrong
Five years passed quickly, lost in depression and pills
I needed Workers Compensation to help me update my skills
The office software had changed from five years ago
I asked my caseworker for help but received a flat, "No."
I was still in grave shock as I hung up the phone
There was no one beside me; I was completely alone
I needed some hope I then called her manager
And the kindness in his voice helped sooth some of my anger
I paid into this system from the time I was ten
Workers Comp cared nothing about me or the hell I'd been in
When I asked them for help, their stoic response caused me shame
They still said I was faking, writing I had "low back pain"
I questioned my disability pension asking what that was based on
When I showed them the truth, they treated me like an ex-con
Why would I have to lie, or pretend to have pain?
They paid me meager wages; I had nothing to gain
The neurotransmitters they paid thousands for, electrocuted me twice
They would have paid for a fourth, but I had a choice
My adjudicator asked me nothing, and they cared even less
That my depression got worse, and my body and mind were a mess
When I cried on the phone, they had no empathy
They said those were the rules; they had to follow policy
I had to hustle and find a job, even though I was a wreck
Other resources wouldn't help me, and they cut off my cheque
It's been twenty-nine years and all that I know
Are the mangled scars on my back, and nothing to show
I still fight this corrupt Workers Comp system that refuses to care
And each day I still ask God, what's the reason I'm here...
© Brenda Keough..AKA Giggles the Poet March 13, 2014
God made me a poet in 1985 after a misdiagnosis "rhomboid muscle strain,' but it was a broken rib in my upper back, left in for a year, leaving me with nerve damage. But it brought ignorance and destruction to my door. for 35 years, something that won't happen to anyone else on my watch.... And for every loss, a beautiful poem was spoken to give me a new perspective and hope...
The in-between of an injured worker's life matters......my life is more than a destructive thought....more than a label, and more than a disability......
www.gigglespoet.com Awareness and Inspiration
I made it, and so can you. Today I'm a Counsellor and Empowerment Coach, helping rebuild/repair/reprogram the minds of God's angels, empowering them to STEP INTO THEIR GREATNESS
MAKE YOUR MIND YOUR *****!
Copyright © Giggles The Poet Brenda Keough | Year Posted 2018
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