Bad news

Although expected, given the results of recent blood tests, this morning's consultation with my doctor brought a shock. I'm only just over the threshold for diabetes,  but it seems the current approach is to shock you into action - they call you by the name of the condition - you don't have diabetes, you are now diabetic - and you are put on medication in the hope that in 6 months time you'll once more be back on the safer side of the threshold.  

It seemed appropriate to revisit the poem Good News (about my Achilles tendonopathy) to reflect on the other side of the coin.


That moment
When they tell you the bad news
And realisation hits with a punch to the gut
And frail hope vanishes with the doctor's words,
And the weight of the burden of worry
You've been denying was there
Shooing it away each time it appeared 
Suddenly settles with a thump,
As panic gives way to sadness,  
And thoughts scatter, like shards of ice.


© Copyright 2024. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Directions

Day 30:  write a poem in the form of a series of directions describing how a person should get to a particular place. It could be a real place, like your local park, or an imaginary or unreal place.  There's an old joke about someone asking directions,  and being told "I wouldn't start from here." But that's the only place you can start, whether it's a real journey,  or your journey through life.    To get to where you want to be Start from where you are.  Take the first step,  then - most important - Keep going in your chosen direction.  Take along your close companions If you're worried they'll be left behind;  Trust you will meet new friends In unexpected places. You may get lost along the way,  Blundering your way back on track After several false starts Before you find your destination.  You may choose to stop, distracted By the bright lights of interesting diversions. Take time to decide if you need to back track Or if this was always your real d
Read more

A Life Lived Well

Another friend has passed away, and will be dearly missed. Yesterday our book group honoured her memory by attending her funeral,  and spending time back at her house amongst her family and friends.  I always find it odd that we find out more about a person's life after they've died than is ever shared while we think we know them.  Our quiet friend, of firm opinions softly spoken, Will never again welcome us into her home,  To discuss her choice of book, relish her homemade cakes, To admire her eclectic collection of postcards on the loo wall, To envy her stream-fed pond, her rambling cottage garden.  Instead, her family warmly welcomes us in, The house humming with tales from those who knew her well,  Who somehow know us: our names, reputations, book choices, Our faces smiling out from frames set among family photos; All of us sharing stories of her love of nature, books, travels, All of us honouring this steadfast, self-effacing woman, Between us cherishing this chronicle of
Read more

Kindness

Day 25: '  write a poem based on the “ Proust Questionnaire ,” a set of questions drawn from Victorian-era parlor games, and  adapted by modern interviewers . You could choose to answer the whole questionnaire, and then write a poem based on your answers, answer just a few, or just write a poem that’s based on the questions. You could even write a poem in the form of an entirely new Proust Questionnaire.' Typically I read the prompt in a rush before going swimming, seized on the word 'virtue' and composed something while in the pool.  It was only when I got back home that I realised the question was about the most overrated virtue.  Too late, I've written instead about the most underrated virtue: kindness.  It's hidden in the little things That brighten up each day. It's in the chores done without prompting,  The coins you save for my after-swim hairdryer,  The morning coffee brewed with a smile , The blanket shared on chilly evenings. It's in the well
Read more