Kimee's Day

Kimee's Day

Soft fluid fingers, over my face,
Brings a new day, of love and grace.
Senses are missing, I do not have much,
My eyes and ears, can’t interpret your touch.

The night has been long, I'm ready to rise,
I feel the sun, though it's denied my eyes.
Coffee and Danish, are shared in the hall,
I breathe through a trach, can’t smell at all.

To thwart pneumonia, a sad step was made,
Now when I cry, I only change shade.
Mute was the cost, a difficult choice,
Forever to miss, my nubile voice.

Bath in a basket, swaddled in a towel,
Wash away night juices, sticky and foul.
Dress me in pink, some gold and bright color,
I see not the hues, but feel the velour.

After night's slumber, to sit in my chair,
Is relief from bed sores, by hands that care.
Meds in the morning, and a bib to catch drool,
Just sponge my face, and off to school.

I learn of the world, as best I can,
Things soft and hard, or warm as your hand.
Sand and salt, sift away through my fingers,
But Play-Doh and clay, are touches that linger.

Lunch is continuous, I cannot chew,
I don't know French fries, burgers, or sodas too.
All is pre-made, my diet is precise,
Down my G-tube, no taste to delight.

After lunch field trip, this time to the pool,
An aide holding tight, aqua therapy’s a tool.
The water flows over, warm and inviting,
It lifts my legs, I float, it's exciting.

Back to the classroom, for one more lesson,
I preserve a tradition, and sleep for the session.
But meds and changes, keep interrupting,
More PT and OT, there's always something.

My learning is done, we're out at three,
Back to my room, and private reverie.
It's time that I teach, the nurse wanta-bes,
Students from med schools, come care for me.

Mistakes are made, fingers get fumble,
My life is precarious, it makes them humble.
They learn their craft, not just for treasure,
Nursing is more, than charts and measures.

I teach them that touching, is one way to talk,
When sight and sound, are off the block.
How hands that hold, and clean up the mess,
Are helping and healing, with each caress.

Shift changes, tie-ins, and documenting,
The day is finished, most staff are leaving.
Their five senses evenings, happily unfurl,
They leave me to lie, in my touch only world.

Blessed deaf and blind, still my surrounds,
Of machines, monitors, and nurses’ rounds.
Breathing is labor, night comes I'm spent,
For an assist and to rest, I need the vent.

Pages:      2
Words:    443