A Poem for Wednesday - Ill

I have never been good at being sick so it is good that on the whole of my life I have been in good health. Course I went through the usual run of childhood diseases (before we had vaccinations for things like measles) but I usually had a lot lighter case of them than my brother. Except for the mumps. I really got the mumps.

I never wanted people to know I was sick, especially parents, which meant acting well and trudging off to school. I became the grade school version of Typhoid Mary. With the mumps it was immediately sent home to the cloying ministrations of my mother. As an adult I shut myself up into my cave. Which is what I did when I got the flu. And when I could I penned the following poem. I am on the mend let me hasten to add.

Ill

Oh, when I feel ill
I want my blankie
Snatched from me at six
I want to hide in old movies
And hug hot mugs of tea.

I seek to bury myself
Beneath blankets and comforters and purr kids
Close myself off from all contact
Like a grumpy hibernating bear
In the deepest part of the cave.

I am not the best of company
When my health is off
I am not even sure I like myself
When ill
I even avoid me.

Hiding beneath blankets
In books I am not a character in
Movies I have watched so much they are memorized
Until I become curious again
About the world outside my sick room.

Till then let me be
A bump under piles of blankets
Someone you thought you saw last week
If I die someone will let you know
The date of the more permanent internment.

(c) Jacqui Binford-Bell

Another multi-blog poetry Wednesday is our future. Do let me know if you are participating.

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