Working with the super-sick people, it's easy to lose sight of the breadth of the healing process. Additionally, when working my typical one day on-two off, it's only the one out of twenty patients that sticks around more than two days. Now, as I ponder the dichotomy of my existence, sitting here with a boot on my leg for 8 weeks, the life-cycle of the healing process, unfolds before my eyes.

Healing

Healing progresses
In its own good time,
More than a nickel
But less than a dime.

The days go by
Kind of slow and boring,
Like the baseball game
Where nobody’s scoring.

Hit the ball, catch the ball
Beat the runner to the bag,
Like a double dose of Ambien
Or Chloroform on a rag.

But who needs excitement
When bones are on the mend,
It’s like the new Spring garden
With little vegetables to tend.

Watching them grow
If you sat there all day,
Would be slower than snot
Is all I can say.

The mending of bone
Takes much longer than expected,
You can’t really feel it growing
But it must be protected.

In that respect, my foot
And lower leg, as well,
Should I fall over or stumble
It will surely hurt like hell,
So I keep it secure
Like hiding my loot,
What used to be a cast
Has now become das boot.

So I busted some bones
To earn an eight-week sleeper,
But I’d rather do that
Than meet the grim reaper.

Fibril_late;
12/25/10