IB M

"I need someone I know is real right now",

That's what she'd said to him when he

Came to pick her up, she looked desperate.

He wasn't sure what that was about, but he

Could clearly see there was something wrong.

So he wrapped his arm around her and led

Her away from this run-down place he

Found her in, placed her in his car, and off

They left.  While driving away, he tried

To get her to talk to see what was going on.

She didn't look right, quite the mess,

Which was definitely not her usual.

He calmly started by asking the beginning,

Gently prompting her to spill the beans,

'Cause at this point, he had no idea.

She began sobbing, talking about seeing

Someone who she wasn't supposed to be

Able to see anymore because they're dead.

And she swore that she saw him again,

And she can't understand how that's possible.

He did his best to not show his confusion

On his face upon hearing this, he didn't

Want to cause further upset.  But he was

Left a bit stumped as to what to say to that.

What she initially said made more sense.

He tried to comfort her, feeling concerned

For her, she was definitely frazzled by this.

But how to explain that one away?  Maybe

She thinks she saw Matt but it wasn't him?

But she was adamant she saw him again,

Hence her freaking out about it.

He didn't argue with her on this,

And all he could really do is listen

And be there for her, and so, he did.

They talked all night long together.

And the next day, he saw him too.

- writing... 

There's a story wanting to form in my

Thoughts, but it's just out of my grasp,

And it taunts it'll come to materialize

Without ever getting anywhere near it.

So it floats around without any clear

Direction or narrative, but bits and

Pieces pop out and stick around...

And it's maddening that it won't land.

1, 2, 3, 4, ma p'tite vache a mal aux pattes

She kept singing this Children's

Comptine as if it meant something.

Babette, la baleine bleue

Fait de bien belles bulles

She kept on going, laughing.

Et patati!

Et patata!

Petite patate, tanpis pour toi!

She kept repeating them,

Clearly delighted by them,

Even though no one knew why.

He closed the door quietly

And let her get on with it,

It was just another regular day.

Dear Reader,

I realize what I write about isn't easy material to respond to most of the time, and you're maybe wondering why I share all of that to the world, and the simple answer to that is because I am alone and I have no one around to talk about these things.

I've been writing like this for the last twenty years on PoetBay, so a lot of you know enough parts of my life to know that it's been difficult.  And that I've spent a lot of time trying to make things better for myself so that I can free myself from the symptoms of my traumas that made me unable to function for so many years.

I've reached a point in my recovery that I'm now functional and a whole lot better at managing any symptom that pops up.  I'm continuing my efforts to make things better for myself and right now what I'm working on is the social aspect of things for me that is still lacking.  I have lived isolated for so many years of my life, there is really no one around in my life today.  But I wish to change that... I crave to make connections with others.

I'm currently still unsure on how to go about changing this situation.  But I'm working on it.

I'm also processing a new reality for me which is starting to take more space.  The loss of my mobility because of the hEDS.  I'm finding this part a little difficult at the moment.

So all this to say, I realize what I write about may be a lot at times.  I'm sorry, it's obviously not to dampen the mood.  But thanks, I appreciate your time.  I'm just figuring out stuff and it's nice when others are involved... 'cause I spend way too much time alone with my head.

My biggest complaint?

Me and my mundaine existence.

My second?

Inconsiderate or mean people.

Overall and generally?

The world could be so much better.

But all of that doesn't matter -

What I think or feel, who cares.

Inconsequential

Insignificant

That's all it simply is really,

Yet here I am telling you anyway.

Message received,

I'll remove myself,

Keep quiet now,

Leave you in peace.

That should make

You feel much better,

Restore that comfort

You lose around me.

And it'll spare me

Having to deal with

Being left on the side

Isolated as always.

It's simpler that way

For you and for me,

Removes expectations

And all potential hurts.

So I'll keep quiet now.

- RAMQ : Régie de l'assurance maladie du Québec... our health ministry...

doctors are my clients... obviously wouldn't say it, but the thoughts are there... 

Dear Doctor,

I'd like to make a gentle reminder

That your claims are not declined

By me specifically, I have no part

In that process at all, all I do is

Relay RAMQ's decisions to you.

So, of course I'm aware your

Patient was still alive at the time

Of the visits you billed, but in

RAMQ's registry, it indicates

That this particular patient

Was deceased on those dates.

Either RAMQ's registry is wrong,

Or the patient billed is wrong,

But I had nothing to do with this.

Please remember, I'm just the

Messenger assisting you through it.

Thank you

- with a backpack holding my laptop and work things...  

When I make the trip

To go to work, it starts

With me going down

Two flights of stairs

With the help of my

Trekking poles, then

I have to fight to open

The entrance door,

'Cause its hinges are

Tight and hold the

Door well closed.

Once that battle is over,

I walk the icy path to

My car, trying to not

Break my neck on the

Way, unlock the car door,

Sit my touche on the seat

And then slowly hoist

My left leg in, 'cause I

Can't lift it on its own without

Serious pain shooting through.

Once that's done, I drive

To the office, but the parking

Lot is 500 metres away from

The door, so when parked,

I have to mosy myself down

The road as best as I can to

Reach the office, which is

A pretty strenuous activity.

Then the whole day in the office,

I have long distances to cover

To get myself to the bathroom,

To get my break, to get anything,

So a lot of walking is involved.

Then at the end of the day,

There're those 500 metres to

Cover again, the hoisting of 

My left leg into the car, then

Navigating the icy path to

My front entrance's door,

Then the agonizing pulling

Of that stiff-hinged door,

And finally, the going up

The two flights of stairs

With my trekking poles.

After a day like that, my body

Feels completely strained,

The pain is screaming at me,

And I can't even eat or sleep.

So yeah, going to the office

Is quite the escapade requiring

A lot of energy, it's becoming

All too much at this point.

To say I'm exhausted would

Not be any sort of exaggeration.

- the pain in my body is chronic... any movement exacerbates it... and well, can't go through life without movement...

Some sort of relief

Now that's a dream

Just it's unattainable

And I have to learn

To somehow live with it

How does one do that?

It's frankly humiliating

To be put in this position

In order for me to maintain

This gracious accommodation

I have to provide a note every

6 months to justify maintaining it

So I have to make a trip to the

Doctor's office to confirm

Making trips is an issue for me

As if this condition is ever

Going to see any improvement

Do you not see how ridiculous

Your procedure is in the context

Of a degenerative condition?

Each note will only ever say

The same as every previous ones

You're making me do what causes

Me the greatest pain to do, just

To get a note that will say the same

This brings me pain for no reason

Well, certainly none that I can find

Procedures are fine, but they need sense!

Really think about the position you're

Putting me in with this absurd request

A bit like asking a wheel-chair bound

Person to climb up the steps to get help, no?