Catharsis

9 Months After the Stroke

Look at me, look at me
I want you to see
The person that I used to be
I could laugh and sing
And play and dance
At Magnetic with my darling Lance

Look at me, look at me
Ignore the chair
I’ve painted my toenails and
tinted my hair

I want to be able to get up in the night
Visit the ensuite and be alright
If only I could visit my robe
Pop on an ensemble and then hit the road

 I want someone to find the key
And give me back my yesterme
So I can hop in my car
Pick up some friends
Drive to a coast or a mountain
Where the highways end
And visit shops and cafes that nobody knows
Except the friends with unusual clothes
Only those ones will know
Exactly where I want to go

There are some small things that I long
To put away things in my house, that the family’s got wrong
Another thing I miss is tickles
And making Martin and Gail pickles
They shouldn’t eat them with a spoon
It drives me crazy as a loon
Stuffing them quickly in their gob
When to replace them is a really long job
At least wait until they are out of the car
It takes a flaming big pot to make one jar

 I want to be able to race up on a ship
Get off in the ports and go on a trip
To see the magical sights of the world
It’s not so much fun with a wheelchair that can’t be turned or twirled

 I want to throw parties and invite all I’ve met
But Lance says not yet to most ideas I get
He says I must go back and work hard at my rehab
I would, but it hurts and it makes me feel bad

 One day I’ll get up and surprise all the staff
And walk out of the room with a wave and a laugh
Then I’ll go home and be all that I was
And yet l’ll be more, you know its because
I’ve gone through a lot more than anyone should
Its hard to accept that its been for the good.