I almost died when I was 35;
emergencies and error laid me low.
But after weeks of pain I was alive –
they pulled my tubes the night before I’d go
back home, and left me in my sterile cell,
and that’s when I began to sob. Relief
cascaded, while I felt my body tell
how long I’d been suppressing fear and grief.
Last week I watched the roll call on TV
and started crying, much to my surprise.
Astounded by our great diversity,
I yelled “I miss us!” as I realized
how much I’ve held my grief and worry in.
But now the march to better can begin.