On The Ventilator

 

On The Ventilator

© by Bud Lemire on Dec 3, 2020

I tried my best not to get it, it would be fatal for me

Yet somehow it found me, now I'm caught in anxiety

That damn virus, breathing for me was hard

I tell you I did everything, I kept up my guard

Because of my health, it would be a trip through Hell

Here I am, on a ventilator, not doing very well

A tube down my throat, to help me breathe each day

Drugged up to help me sleep and heal, is the only way

Panic attacks come on, and I'm scared of where my future lies

In a room packed with so many, where the Covid patient dies

I wish they would take this tube out, but the time is not yet here

So when I am awake, I live each moment in fear

It's early December 2020, and I'm scared and alone

I just want to get better, and spend Christmas in my home

I know that healing takes time, especially for me and what I got

I tried so hard to avoid this Covid, but it's exactly what I caught

When I am awake, I text and reach out to my friends

I need to see their replies, in case my life ends

I'll grasp at anybody, I just hate being alone

I just want to spend my Christmas, in my home

I know someone very dear to me on the ventilator. It is

something I would not wish on anyone. It's to help them

breathe. The fear they must be going through, is so very

dark. Panic attacks, and so many thoughts of what could

happen. In a large room with others who have Covid. And

seeing them die all around in the same room. Wondering

and thinking “will I be next?” What keeps my friend going,

is the hope that it will get better, and will be able to spend

Christmas at home.