|
|
|
||||||||
I have a problem.
I am sitting in a neurologist's office.
My attending physician says I might have sleep apnea.
I have a problem.
I have a problem.
This apnea is depriving me of the rest my body needs,
therefore I am still tired when I awake.
I have a problem.
I have a problem.
He says I need to lose a bit more weight.
Being overweight can cause this sleeping disorder.
I have a problem.
I have a problem.
My body pains and some joints hurt,
especially in cold or rainy weather.
I have a problem.
I have a problem.
I was told my problems are partly responsible for my stress.
This stress is in turn creating some of my problems.
I have a problem.
I have a problem.
There are people throughout this waiting room.
Most are taken in to see the doctor before I am.
I have a problem.
I have a problem.
As I scan the waiting room I see some elderly and young.
Some have canes and some have walkers.
I have a problem.
I have a problem.
Some are here with loved ones,
adults with spouses, children with parents.
I have a problem.
I have a problem.
I notice a set of twins, no more than toddler age.
Both parents with looks of concern.
I have a problem.
I have a problem.
Such a beautiful brother and sister both smiling in their innocense.
Their faces don't convey what their problems might be.
I have a problem.
I have a problem.
A smiling child just drove by me.
Parking his motorized wheel chair, he looks around the room.
I have a problem.
I have a problem.
A teen sitting there with a look of emptiness on his face.
I can't help but wonder what his problem might be.
I have a problem.
I have a problem.
A child of about 6.
A nanny trying to calm him as he tugs at his mother's shirt.
I have a problem.
I have a problem.
He turns and looks around the room.
Such a look of panic on his face.
I think I have a problem.
I think I have a problem.
He paces every inch of the room,
checking around every corner.
I think I have a problem.
I think I have a problem.
He is checking out everything in the room,
even every chair and the persons sitting in them.
I think I have a problem.
I think I have a problem.
I close my eyes to get some rest,
A minute later I feel someone grab my left wrist.
I think I have a problem.
I think I have a problem.
Jolting awake, I see his face,
checking out every aspect of the watch on my wrist.
I think I have a problem.
I think I have a problem.
I looked down at his face, as he looked up into mine.
Still holding my wrist, he stared deep into my eyes.
No words were said, but the conversation felt so real.
I felt honored by his touch, which he gave with much zeal.
My problems felt big when I sat down in this chair,
somehow right now, they just aren't there.
I had them here with me just a minute ago,
but just as he touched me, I felt them let go.
He released my wrist and moved on around the room.
leaving me wishing his treatment would cure soon,
all that ailed him possibly since the day he was born,
all that wretched his body, all shaking and torn.
Rising up and moving toward the voice that called me by name,
I walked across the room, still filled with sick and lame.
Turning to look once more for the child with the worried stare,
I froze in dis-belief when I saw he wasn't there.
