Fluid.
Limbs flooded,
lungs immersed,
skin engorged-
you chase it off.
Pill
after pill.
Nights.
Twilight wheezes
upon three pillows.
Four.
Five.
Bare
are your breaths
as you gasp,
fight-
hunger unquenched.
Stairs
unconquerable,
indomitable,
fatigue intractable.
Slowly you ascend.
Still
you conquer,
embrace
love,
life,
strength.
Your heart full.
Your dilated cardiomyopathy.
Categories: All Poetry, Medical Poetry, Medicine, Poetry by Phoebe
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I don’t have cardiomyopathy, but I do have congestive heart failure, and just recovered from a severe acute systolic episode in October that laid me low for three weeks. So I could relate to much of this poem. Thank you!
I am very sorry to hear that, but I am glad to hear that you are feeling better now. Wishing you the best. 🙂