Shawn L. Bird

Original poetry, commentary, and fiction. All copyrights reserved.

poem- bad days November 29, 2018

When it’s a bad day,

the pain is there with waking.

Constriction or stabbing,

nausea or aching;

it fills the head until there is nothing in the world

but the hopeless frustration,

that I will never be well again.

When it’s a bad day,

there are no conversations,

no outings or errands,

only holding the head,

taking another pill,

and praying tomorrow will be

a better day.

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12 Responses to “poem- bad days”

  1. Thankfully, such a day has the same 24 hours as any other, though it sometimes feels longer.

  2. Can’t the doctors do a CAT SCAN OR A MRI? Perhaps acupuncture or some sort of cranial stimulation massage would help. I don’t like to see you suffer.
    I’m praying for you.

    • I’ve had a CT scan. Nothing abnormal showed up. I have an appointment for Cranial-Sacral massage next week- I had to book 10 weeks ago. I have high hopes for the visual therapy, they say it should resolve most of the symptoms, but I can’t get in to see the therapist until January when the current clients are through their sessions. I’ve got a referral in with a neurologist, but haven’t heard anything. A colleague is doing reiki and will give me a treatment on Monday. I’m trying lots of things, but there are waiting lists for many options. My therapeutic glasses arrive on Monday. That will be exciting! They are supposed to be helpful.

  3. Nice poem and feel better

  4. the Rabel Says:

    I have chronic migraine, this resonates.. I’m sorry.


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