MY SOUL’S CONSTANT FIGHT

Dear Lord, day by day I wonder
Tired and helpless I wait
In a body I can no longer control
I fear without answers it may be too late

The fighting spirit I had is dimming
I smile trying hard not to show
That the burden I carry gets heavier each day
And I fear one day I’ll give up and let go

All the experiments that I’ve had to endure
Leaves me feeling such saddened defeat
All this adds to my pain without helping
And as I take my last walk, I am dragging my feet

I have fought many battles throughout my young life
Now I wonder who will win this war 
I fight an unseen enemy of pain
And my doctor’s seem oblivious to finding a cure…

© Brenda Keough
1985

Death is closer than we think

I started writing poetry when chaos entered my life in 1985.  What I had to face, due to ignorance in the medical community, leaves me speechless still...

I was injured at work on April 1985.  I was lifting something heavy and when I went to stand up, I felt a sharp pain like none other...I went to my doctor's, he was out of the country, I was examined, and misdiagnosed with "rhomboid muscle strain." 

What this doctor started was my walk through hell for thirty years fighting for my life, my human rights and fighting to have a broken rib removed from my upper back...because nothing showed on a regular x-ray, but what they called a "hot spot," later they would assume it was a tumor, and told me to return in six months to see what developed...

I was used experimentally, being put through painful nerve blocks, and prostituted through the medical system, as well as the Workers Compensation System.  Each day, the pain beyond compare, I would go from one doctor, hospital to another...trying to get help, medication for the pain...I was regarded as "over reacting." 

A year later a CT scan was done, showing a broken rib...by then I was having breathing difficulties, the rib was causing more damage...went into the hospital with my CT scan, the only thing the doctor did was put me through further hell, nerve blocks that sent me into spasms.   He wouldn't remove the rib, saying that he would cut the nerves, so I wouldn't feel pain....which would have left my right side with no feeling...the rib would still be doing damage, but I wouldn't feel it...  I left that hospital...shortly thereafter, found out I was pregnant and lost my child....  Then another much later, due to this medical nightmare...

Of the 12 neurosurgeons I saw, nobody did anything, nor would they give me the benefit of the doubt... I became labelled..and for 30 years fought those labels...

The rest of the story is on my about page.  A warning about Neurotransmitters that were put in my body to help with the nerve damage caused by the broken rib, which I finally had removed in 1986, but the damage was done...I would feel pain for the rest of my life...

I was taken out of society, and lived until now in such isolation..God, my only friend gave me the gift of writing and my poems became my link to sanity..hope, and truth..

God bless you all

Giggles the Poet