PhoebeMD: Medicine + Poetry

i am not my body poem Cynthia Cady Stanton

I Am Not My Body [a poem]

By PhoebeMD: Medicine + Poetry on April 20, 2021 • ( 5 Comments )

By Cynthia Cady Stanton | Featured Contributor

I am not my body.
I am not the wrinkles around my eyes,
nor am I the deep lines forming under my nose.
I am not the softening of my belly that is thickening my waist and
now spilling over my waistbands.
I am not the annoying chin hairs cropping up.
Every time I look in the mirror,
I notice the things I am not.
My eye goes right to anything that screams aging at me,
especially my now droopy neck.
Or the brown spots forming on my face and hands.
“Damn it!” I say to myself.
“I am getting old.”
And I turn away in disgust.

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Rising [a poem]

By PhoebeMD: Medicine + Poetry on April 19, 2021 • ( 8 Comments )

By Cara Amy Goldthorpe | Featured Contributor

For so long I’ve been hiding
in the deep valleys
of the caved-in walls
of my heart;
a timid girl
caught in the shackles
of hurt
from lifetimes ago

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Heartburn Relief: An Essential Guide

By PhoebeMD: Medicine + Poetry on April 14, 2021 • ( 48 Comments )

Heartburn. It’s something that hardly needs an introduction. Most people have experienced it at least once in their lifetime. For some, it’s an occasional annoyance; for others, a serious medical problem. But what discerns one from the other? When and why should it be treated? And what exactly can be done about it? This article will provide fundamental information and essential tips on acid reflux and heartburn relief.

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Eye to I [a poem]

By PhoebeMD: Medicine + Poetry on April 13, 2021 • ( 12 Comments )

By Saumya Rawat | Featured Contributor

Even when I needed saving,
I needed to first convince them
that I needed saving
or worse…was worth saving.

That test enough delayed the process.
The last few breaths were wasted proving worth,
Where one could have been held and let continued breathing,
One was still questioned on if it’s real,

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Please Let Me Dance Again: Michele’s Story

By PhoebeMD: Medicine + Poetry on April 9, 2021 • ( 53 Comments )

By Michele Lee Sefton, M.Ed. | Featured Contributor

“Oh, God,” I pleaded, “Please let me dance with my daughter again.”

That desperate plea flooded my brain during a moment that shattered a picturesque and perfect morning, several years ago, just two days before Christmas. My husband and I had just returned home from a long bicycle ride, when I remembered that our daughter’s preschool teacher had asked for a playpen donation to house a litter of pups. Caught up in the spirit of giving, it seemed like the perfect time to climb into our attic and retrieve our daughter’s playpen. I climbed the pull-down ladder and stepped into the dark and dusty space. My husband was at the bottom of the ladder, waiting for me to lower the playpen down to him. My simple act of generosity did not go according to plan. As I was attempting to lower the playpen, I slipped and in an instant I crashed through drywall, which sent me plummeting to the garage floor below.

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