Poetry
Cath Lab Life
January 2019
For years
I have wandered
adrift, waiting to find
a place where I fit in
a niche to call my own
and it landed among you;
you wonderful, negative, lovely, awful
myriad of people
whom I call family.
The only kind of close you can be
holding life and death between your hands
at 3 AM sleep eyed
staving off death’s encroachment
with grim humor, sharp minds, and quick hands;
the kind of close where you understand each other at times
without even uttering a word;
where all levels and types of emotion
burst out, running rampant and wild
and in the end, all is forgiven because we are all in this together.
We are family.
A dysfunctional, life-saving, terrifying, amazing family.
