They told me I was so hypothroid I was going into a comma.More like a full stop, I’d say.
Anyway, what’s so bad about commas?
My anemia was so severe, I baptised myself and now my name is Holy Moses ,which is odd as Moses predated Jesus.I should not have used hot water but my hair needed washing.
My migraine was cured by detachment.I wanted to cut off my own head but my mother said she couldn’t live without it.So I disengaged.Then got harried.
It’s all one to me.
I used to get pre-vestibule tension when I first menstruated.Would you like a vestibule in your body?
The Bishop forbade Tampax.He must have had shares in Dr Whites unmentionables.What was my hymen to him? I don’t believe I ever had one.So there!
I never had flu till I began explaining why e is not an algebraic number.Don’t say ,it’s a letter! It was the lectures that made me ill.I don’t like the sound of my own voice
What puzzles me is I became mute when I was 17 and 5 years later I was a tutor at a University.I never realised I’d have to talk till it was too late.Tell Freud that one!Still it was mainly:
For every number delta, however small there is a number epsilon ,which is less than delta.Maybe it’s the other way round but I can’t type it again.So it’s not as if I had to make small talk about Wittgenstein and Serge Diaghilev.Or the weather.We never spoke to the undergraduates.They looked terrified already.Maybe they were mute
So to conclude, if you are mute, become a teacher.Or even a professor.That will make you talk again and again….but I’m still quiet I am told.When I stop talking.
It’s a bit late in the day for a poem
I’m only human you know!
but if you feel like a-knowing
Then to your bookshelf you go.
Take out a volume of Shakespeare
He was my ancestor too.
Then if you need a short break,dear,
A sonnet should do it for you.
Take out a clean piece of paper
And your pen and some ink.
Make up a poetic caper,
Then you can have forty winks.
Take out a volume of Homer.
Read it instead of the News.
Then if you fall into a coma
We shall all be completely amused!
The Government will be bemused.
Do you hire one or have your own Muse?
This is all a very fine ruse.
I want to blow my own fuse.
I love to write in canoes
With his blood sugar and my thyroid gland
Not to mention gout and heart attacks.
Our marriage was detested by the grand
Sometimes he looked mad and could not stand
My feebleness in falling down the cracks
Between his sugar and my thyroid gland
I held my soul together with a band
Elastic in its way thus not too slack
Our marriage was arrested by hot hands
Yet often we would saunter hand in hand
Go on the towpath feed the swans and ducks
Despite low sugar and low thyroid gland
He loved the sea and loved the long white sands
But as for me I could not muster luck
Our marriage was so trying it was banned
I lost my heart and seemed to lose my luck
So kindly he bought geese for me to pluck
With his blood sugar and my thyroid gland
Our marriage was disfigured by demands
I am not talking about accepting violence and abuse from partner’s or friends
Similarly to Gandhi’s peaceful resistance, I think we need to avoid immediate retaliation when a person is angry while maybe removing ourselves from the scene for a while.
Because a number of health matters can make people fly off the handle.The one I know best is diabetes.But the angry person might not yet be diagnosed.Depression can make people irritable too.Fear can display as anger in men.A problem at work can make people desperate
My husband was diabetic and at one time when we were eating, he would begin arguing or even shouting.After studying diabetes in depth I found he was having hypos; very low blood sugar.So I started giving him some light food at 4 pm.Then he was back to his usual self.But I do think doctors do not inform us.I bought many books and even a glucose monitor.I practised on my own hands for 2 weeks [ somewhat painful] and then I began to test him.He said I was better than the nurse.
The little instrument with which you pierce the skin has a small sharp point.I got fed up with it being hard to work, so I took the needle out and just stuck it into my finger! That got some blood out to test,
Don’t do this unless you are desperate.
I wear red leggings underneath my dress
My legs are cold and turning slightly blue
So I dress like the Muslim ladies do
Is it sinful, must I now confess?
You see, I don’t like wearing denim jeans
And yet the summer is not very warm
So to keep my legs and bladder calm
I’m brighter than a can of Heinz baked beans
I like to wear bright colours like the flowers
But English summers are not trustworthy
And my weak bladder is a curse to me
The germs get in and I go twice an hour. [or more!]
Antibiotics do their work slowly
And on the sofa, I lie with a book
It’s much too narrow as a lover’s nook
So with my Keats contented, I must be.
The post man looked a little bit surprised
But though I’m 89 I still like clothes
Does he think that I am one of those?
Or maybe I’m a mugger in disguise?
So see me in your mind’s eye looking bright
And then like me, perhaps you’ll see the light