Yes this is a wonky gate and reminds me of my wonky gait
The change was sudden, my walking seemed weak
I noticed some days it was a struggle to speak
Touching a fork or spoon sent chills through my veins
And the chilly fridges in supermarket aisles didn’t feel the same
Confusion welcome in, I’m lost as to what these ailments are
Been walking for miles, what a day to leave the bloody car
An elderly couple, “yes they will help,” as my walking it slowed
But they passed, carried on, little interest they showed
Workman wearing high-vis stood at the lights
I staggered over, begged them to help with my plight
My mind started racing, footsteps had slowed
The workmen had failed to abandon their loads
Mobile battery was dead I was way far from fine
As I spoke, they sniggered “it’s too early for wine.”
My mind was confused, my foot steps slowed
My mouth was dry and my speech slurred, when once it flowed
The dog walker’s pace quickened as she hurried on past
No time, too busy, like life, moving too fast
Shuffled past a bus, passengers stared at me
Why the fuck’s no one helping I ask painfully
Fast forward and I at the Doctor’s door
Still didn’t know what was happening when I fell to the floor
No alcohol had passed my lips as blood tests were taken
Questions followed from my Dr, she knew I was shaken
Referred to the hospital for further exams and tests
So very confused and sad but I was trying my best
Would somebody somewhere please help me again I begged
The eyes studying me in the waiting room said I was society’s dregs
MRI, CAT scans, I kept hearing the word gait
Was this a gate in front of me or closing me in? “Answers! Can’t wait!”
Results are what I need and lumbar puncture’s imminent
Bowie’s Hunky Dory record’s my friend, the MRI I move into it
Listening to his music I felt free but trapped in this noisy machine
Find solace in his lyrics, and I know just what they mean
Bowie’s melting into my ears and coming out of my pores
Laying flat, fixed to a bed as Life on Mars soars
Magnets, alarms and sounds all around me
And still I lay there wondering what the hell it could be?
Skip forward a week and I’m sitting with the professor
He calms me and tells me the results, is this the de-stresser?
But the news wasn’t what I had wanted to hear
Diagnosis MS it soon became clear
The panic set in and I recalled all the stories
I’d heard from others who too were dealt such worries
Information, lots of it and I needed some answers
Was this the end of my life of festivals and dances?
As the months wore on I started to see things more clearly
That it was not the end just a change, so I felt much less weary
But don’t ever think I’m the same person as before
That time I fell in through my surgery’s door
I’m just more willing and determined to succeed
This disease won’t define me because I’m still me you see
Llewellyn-McKenzie Communications 2019 (c)
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