My path was supposed to be
short and simple.
Two days at the max.
Back in the year of
nineteen sixty seven,
they sent my parents home
with the directive
to buy a coffin.
The lungs were infected,
there was little they could do.
Some thirty days later,
coughing and spitting out
the poor meal I had been served,
I was taken home.
These many decades later
those first days define me–
I behave in the same patterns.
Terribly rebellious,
a thorn in the side of authority,
and quite sick and tired
of the interventions
that are meant to help.
This is a shout out
to all my premi
brothers and sisters.
Continue to hang on.
Hang on.
Hope all goes well . Anita
Thanks Anita.
Wow, be well, Richard! 🫢
Yeppers! I got this. (…and no more croup!)
Wow, Richard. You’ve been through a lot. (My sister was a premi. They didn’t think she’d make it, either). She’s fine now, apart from her asthma, which I have, too. Stay well, my friend. ✨
Like your sister, I am blessed and fortunate. These poor lungs seem to know there job, regardless of the malformation and damage. ✨
Que todo vaya bien. Ánimo.
Si tú lo dices! Gracias.
Sorry to hear you have to struggle on with long as long term symptoms through such early damage. Amazing that you describe in a poetical nature. To the point and in a very emotive way. Like your style. All the best.
The long term effects mostly on the mental health side, what is described in some of the lit as a disorganized attachment
Thanks for enlightening. I usually think holistically. That familiar health practitioner biopsychosocial umbrella status for health and well being. How I got into supporting Deaf students was through my nephew. He was a premature baby and it resulted in profound deafness. A fluent signer and a very natural visual communicator. Same as yourself with words. Able to see the world in a unique manner. All the best Richard.
Strong. A survivor.
Hang in there, Richard.
Will do Mick.