“Hope, Surrendered”

  

c. 2026 Rod Ice

All rights reserved

(10-26)

 

 

Hope surrendered, fate embraced

A turn toward the inevitable, a plea for grace

Each step I take is a plodding chore

A difficult dance from my bed to the door

These old bones are weary, yet still being used

And the options I face are not pleasant to view

Should I seek a revision, in a hospital ward?

If so, will that wish be endorsed or ignored?

The doctors I see are trained to detect

The problems I face with these woes in effect

But somehow the curse is clearly invisible

Because when I speak, that cry is inaudible

Silent to those who incline their ears

A difficult dilemma that bolsters my fear

I sit in a wheelchair, hoping to heal

And instead find myself plotting a deal

How many decisions, how many indeed!

A roster of remedies to appeal and agree

The solutions seem obvious, like using my crutch

I trust in the tribe with certificates and such

But insurers and monitors stand in between

An honor guard of interpreters, who govern the scene

I am but a patient, with a heartbeat to give

They will choose how I think, and debate how I live

Upright and in motion, or flat on my back

Careening through care centers, while staying on track

My birthdate and name, repeated for show

Dressed in the garb of a handicapped fellow

Stripes on the fabric, like a prisoner’s sheath

And all the while, I seek only relief

To be better enough, to get a ticket to ride

A pass through the portal, back to life on the outside

That fantastic voyage is one I will crave

While stuck in this room, a medical cave

Pale and poked like a melon at the market

Until I turn numb and begin to forget

The cause of this interlude, spent away from the crowd

Safe in a cubicle, though lingering in doubt

What did I neglect to be put in this place?

What habits must I shun, to get the chalkboard erased?

I look at the calendar, but it offers no clues

I can’t find my hat or my shirt, or my shoes

Dignity is a veneer that too quickly goes away

A glimmer soon gone during a hospital stay

Though my muscles react, with therapy involved

I find out too late that nothing was solved

Over and over, I explain my condition

And realize that my claims are a dated edition

Deaf is the aide who stands by my side

Going through the motions, preening with pride

Kind in their manner, but unable to hear

My tale of the tempest, over a diagnosis, unclear

Monitors intone their cadence of concern

An alarm on the rail, installed to be firm

With a tattletale squawking, if I change my position

And attendants come running, stern in their mission

The home that I left is a shelter, unoccupied

A living space abandoned, a privilege, denied

Of that place, I dream, while wishing to escape

Making my petition for a Superman cape

Too long have I hobbled, and now that good deed

Has brought me to this, it planted the seed

My endurance is laudable, yet still not enough

To prevent me from wrangling with this ride in the rough

So, I lie still and breathe, as machines do their work

And comply with the counselors, doctors, and clerks

Until an intervention is made to dispel

The hindrances plaguing my fight to be well

When that occurs, I will celebrate the flip

And roll off the floor with a song on my lips!