Flapping My Feathers

Flapping My Feathers

The wind
is heavy.
Propelling
me
backward.
My wings
are fatigued.

The big, bad wolf
is still lurking about,
trying to huff,
and puff,
and blow me down.

On my knees,
fervently
flapping my feathers
with all the moxie
I can muster.
Cemented in quicksand.
Struggling
to take flight.

Again.
And.
Again.
Endlessly.

Forward.
Backward.
Up.
Down.
Spinning.
Darting emotions.
Staggering.
Seasickness.

Faith.
Look to the heavens.
Trust.
Quiet the clamor.
Believe.
Turn inward.

Searching
for my Chi.
She knows
the way,
even when I don’t.

Breathe.
Close my eyes.
Listen to her.
Guiding my every step,
better than any fancy
navigational device.

Rise up.
Ascend
from the ashes.
Soar
as you know you can.

Tests.
Measurements.
Statistics.
All looking to
dictate my Heath.

Focus.
Results are
nothing more
than a static,
infinitesimal
grain of sand.

I cannot
let numbers
obscure
or blind
my vision.
Remember.
Know.

Chant.
I.
Will.
Heal.
This.
Land!

My diagnosis
is not my prognosis.
It is only
one moment
in time.
Forever changing.
Never to be the same.
Dynamic.

As fluid as an ocean shore.
Always in motion,
moving toward
Quantum Health.
Prevailing!

I will survive!
I am alive and vibrant!
Nothing can stop me!

Nancy L. Baskin Michlin, M.Ed., C.H.C
December 18-19, 2013
Poem # 383

20130912-101724.jpg
For those who are wondering what inspired this poem, I got my results back from the blood work I sent to Greece. They have a test there which can determine the cancer stem cells circulating in my blood. Those are the cells that cause recurrences. We want my number to less than 5, preferably 3 or 2. I’ve been tested four times at this point. My results have been as follows: 6.3, 6.1, 5.8, and now 6.4. Ugh! There are many factors which may have contributed to the rise. My recent surgeries being the most likely. My doctor is hoping that it is a temporary surge, which can happen with cancer apoptosis (cell death). We will retest in eight weeks and go from there. 

I was so positive my results were going to drop. The rise came as quite a blow. On top of the recent Hashimoto’s Thyrioditis diagnosis, my vim and vigor wained for just a moment. No worries. I’ll be back!

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2 thoughts on “Flapping My Feathers

  1. Your poem relates so much to a scenerio that I portray of myself currently.
    I used to write poetry a very long time ago. Maybe I should start writing again. I feel inspired by reading yours.
    Looking forward to meeting you soon!

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