... I was being enveloped by an overwhelming calm ...
I'd been to see the doctor for a problem with my wrist,
Which showed no signs of getting any better,
He knew a good neurologist and got me on his list,
His P.A forthwith typed me up a letter.
The envelope she’d given me now rested in my lap,
I stared at it and felt inclined to shred it,
Instead, I slid my thumbnail underneath the flap,
And took the letter out and promptly read it.
“Cogwheel rigidity” I saw, it pleased me not one jot,
The sound of it induced an ice-cold chill,
Because I knew immediately that that was what I’d got,
And the connotation made me feel quite ill.
I keyed it into ‘Google’ and then, with some unease,
Sat transfixed and gaped with vacant stare
At entry after entry on ‘Parkinson’s Disease,’
“Oh my God,” I breathed, “Let’s not go there.”
The neurologist would tell me I’d got nothing of the sort
I told myself, without too much conviction,
He’d say I’d just been cutting my fingernails too short,
Or was suffering from some minuscule infliction.
Then abruptly in the midst of all this terror and alarm,
Peace prevailed as I began to feel,
That I was being enveloped by an overwhelming calm,
That would help me face whatever fate would deal.
