Poems 4 march 2007

Lost in feelings.
Feelings too strong to understand except to feel more helpless,
Hopeless sitting by the kitchen table, its a grey early morning once again confronted with all I can’t do.
Fucking hopeless feelings of despair floods of tears,
Life is all on top of me. Feel submerged
Almost like being stranded except I am still here right in the middle of it all.
Yet lost, lost in feeling lost in pain and fear.
Still can laugh still can have fun but its all so hard.

Nearly my birthday
This year I don’t really want to know it’s my birthday feel too raw. The ms so new surely it could go away for my birthday.
Surely ms and birthdays don’t go together.
Surely my birthday present will be no ms.

Feel like a symptom.
Feel more and more like a symptom not like me.
Too involved in bodily processes.
How’s my bladder today.
Can I have a crap?
These things once were taken for granted now they are major facts of life.
Its no longer what shall I wear today but how often have I been.

Intimacy.
Need some intimacy now I have lost closeness of sex.
Can’t feel sexy safely.
Masturbation causes spasms of such intensity that they threaten to throw me out of my wheelchair.
These are not pleasant spasms but out of control like the kick of a mule.

Shower time.
It’s not fun anymore having a shower.
Need help, can’t do it alone anymore.
First I wheel into the shower it’s a narrow doorway and a small steep incline.
Steer past the hot radiator.
On go the brakes and I heave up out of the chair.
My darling quickly whips my knickers down my legs as I fall back into the chair.
Legs trembling, spastic as fuck.
Over to the shower seat.
Heave myself up again and sideways into the shower chair.
Spastic shivers through my body as the water hits my body almost can’t control it and fall off the chair.
With my darlings help I wash and rinse off then get dried.
Its all time consuming and painful for us both in different ways.
Shower time is not like it was before.


Getting dressed is such fun.
Rage rage rage but that won’t put my clothes on.
Sitting cursing in my chair.
Thrown my knickers on the floor, not me but the spasm in my foot.
Lean over to do it again and nearly fall on my head.
It’s time for help as I realise I can’t do it alone.