die. Or that’s what I’m being told. How would you feel if your medical professionals acted in such a spiteful manner?
When it becomes a luxury to go home. Home should not feel like a tomb. It sure beats staying in a hospital bed while everyone in your medical team chastises you for not doing as they say.
They must’ve forgotten the fact that I have severe medical PTSD. I’m literally scared to death to be in this place right now.
Being in here is like a double-edged sword, it cuts both ways. I’m healing my body, but breaking my mind.
Will there ever be balance?
"Returning to the Hospital"
There's nothing quite as haunting,
As that antiseptic scent, daunting,
Upon the walls, the sanitizing brew,
In a place where fear eternally grew.
It penetrates deep, straight to the core,
Where past traumas haunt once more,
Unwinding sanity's fragile cord,
As anxieties, like a sword, are scored.
Within these sterile walls, I'm confined,
To a realm where the brave resign,
A place where life and death converge,
In this medical labyrinth I must submerge.
The whiteboard stands, a silent witness,
To the countless battles, pain, and sickness,
In this place where healing's intertwined,
With memories of struggles, of every kind.
For I, with medical PTSD's grip,
Each step's a journey, a painful trip,
But remember, in the darkest hour,
My strength shines forth like a radiant flower.
Through the pain and the memories past,
I am a warrior, enduring steadfast,
In this hospital, where fear may roam,
I return, but I am not alone.
©️ Arwen-Wynter Oakley 2023