Panic Button
By Bee
- 9257 reads
Two plant pots containing my breasts,
the good one and the bad,
rest beneath my aching ribs as I attempt
to breathe gentle like they tell me,
and not as my mind advises,
in gulps of bucking panic.
I can't do this - yes you can,
and down the tube I go. Feel the darkness
pressing in around my down-faced prone.
Halt breath until I'm still again -
snot dripping - nothing
I can do but sniff, or let it flow. Half an hour
in this buzzing, chugging craft is but a lifetime
when the only comfort is the bulb
I hold in my left Palm.
I wonder what happens if I squeeze it,
will they really come?
30 minutes later, I'm out of there - filled with uncertainty and a residue of dye.
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Comments
This is brilliant. Those
This is brilliant. Those machines are terrifying. Thirty minutes of such uncertainty and awful claustrophobia.
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Very vivid, very hard. The
Very vivid, very hard. The possibility of pressing the button sounds like the only thing to help persevere. I can imagine other situations that must feel the same, especially not being able to wipe the nose-drip. Holt breath = hold? Rhiannon
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very real and beautifully
very real and beautifully captured. Well done Bee.
on a very frivolous note, I had an MRI on my head last year (they found nothing!) and they gave me headphones and a list of music. Took one look and said no thanks. Then the minute I was under the machine they started playing Neil Diamond. I'm not sure which was worse - listening to Neil Diamond, or seething at the thought that they decided I was the kind of person who might enjoy Neil Diamond.
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Very strong opening and
Very strong opening and closing stanzas Bee..."filled with uncertainty and a residue of dye" is precisely how I felt last week after a hospital visit!
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Very good poem. I feel the
Very good poem. I feel the claustrophobic feeling and squeezing of the chest.
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"I can't do this. Yes you
"I can't do this. Yes you can..."
Bee, you're a star, and a shining example to all of us.
Tina
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It's amazing what you can do
It's amazing what you can do Bee when you REALLY have to. The mind is screaming NO, yet you know there really is no alternative. I had an MRI a couple of years ago. The Nurse asked me if I'd like some music and I said yes. She went away and then everything began. When it was over she came back in and I asked her what happened to the music. She simply said "Oh sorry, I forgot." I would have killed for some Neil Diamond!
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Sounds like the medics are on
Sounds like the medics are on auto-pilot. I almost want to say, 'you're very brave Bee' but that doesn't sound right, what are the other choices? Your poem successfully conveys the helplessness and utter peculiarness of the treatment. I think I would struggle to keep the lid on panic but i am thinking as a healthy person (i hope).
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hard to imagine what was the
hard to imagine what was the worst, beign on the hospital, or beign on the tube..., great stuff bee!
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This is so immediate, you
This is so immediate, you give such a sense of the moment, I felt my heart beating faster and space shrinking, constricting breath, wonderful, frightening poem.
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Thank you for lettng us share
Thank you for lettng us share this, Bee I'm very claustrophobic and I do sometimes wonder what I'd do if they wanted to put me in one of those things. And I particularly loved the opening lines - made me smile and wince at the same time! Very well deserved golden cherries.
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Hi Bee
Hi Bee
beautifully done - and thanks so much for being prepared to share your experiences with us. I'm sure others who are or will experience similar things will benefit from your bravery. I know the noise of the machine too - but at least I was face up and my nose wasn't running.
Jean
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Bee, I couldnt find the words
Bee, I couldnt find the words yesterday to comment. Sometimes I find it hard to seperate the work from the person who is living what they've written. I know you'll get me. The poem: It conveys the dark panic and the battle with self to conform to the oppression of the machine, to chin up and soldier on in the face of a nightmarish sensory experience and an emotional experience, too. Really powerful.
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Hello Bee,
Hello Bee,
Vera is right when she speaks of the sensory and emotional experience. I sometimes think the emotional impact is often forgotten by the nursing staff. I haven't had an MRI scan, but I did have a brain scan and like insert they found nothing, but the machine came so close to my face I thought it was going to take my nose off. When I told my friend I was having a brain scan she said 'Well, that won't take long then, will it?' Afterwards, I told her that I must have some grey matter because it took forty minutes.
Keep strong and keep writing because this poem shines like a beacon.
Moya
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