Poems

September 29th

A room filled with machines hooked up to a man.
They beep in the dim lighting
echoing off white walls.
The man is too large for his bed
but he looks peaceful.
His skin is pale and the once strong man looks as fragile as a porcelain doll.
A tube sticks out of his throat to help him breathe,
because his throat closed.
Dried blood surrounds his neck. from the emergency operation.
He has a mouth guard hanging loosely from his lips,
its function is to keep him from biting his tongue if he has another seizure.
His eyes open but he struggles to talk.
He shakes his head to acknowledge what others say.
Multiple tests to find out why,
Why his family had to call 911 in the middle of the night.
Why the neighbors awoke to sirens.
Why his daughters had to walk to their grandfather's house as their mother drove after the ambulance.
A room filled with machines hooked up to a man,
and we have yet to know why.
The man is allowed to go home.
Not allowed to drive.
Not allowed to work.
They think he's on drugs.
They took him to a center for tests.
There's a name for his condition.
Severe Sleep Apnea.
The man stops breathing at night.
He needs a machine to breathe for him at night.
Everything is slowly going back to how it should be.