MGH (a poem)

The last time I was at MGH

my child had broken his neck

but no one at the first hospital suspected it—

they were distracted by

a more obvious and dramatic issue

and thankfully transferred him.

He recovered. 

We all did, mostly, in our own ways

and resumed life more cautiously. 

Tomorrow I go get tested

for something my own doctor missed 

or didn't consider, distracted by

(tell me if this sounds familiar)

the dramatic,

not seeing the real danger lurking

Only by luck and pain and nearly losing

my furious beloved, raging about blood draws

(but I was willing! if this is when I lose him, so be it!)

did we learn of

our own cracked vertebrae

So off I go, offering myself to their expertise again. 

And we'll recover. 

We both will, in our own ways

and resume life more cautiously.

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