Ok. Being a little silly this morning, but when I was listening to Naomi Shihab Nye’s video yesterday about the art of teaching poetry, something she said caught my attention. She said we should practice by writing about the common things in our life, and she listed some examples.
So sitting here this morning fiddling around with my pen, I found myself trying to write a “poem” about my visit last week to my endocrinologist of all things. It was an interesting exercise. You see there’s no way I can adequately explain to her about the difficulties I have dealing with refined sugar and what it does to my body (puts me in a sugar coma if I have too much!). Why? Because SHE’S not diabetic and has no clue.
Don’t get me wrong, I love Donna. But I often think if a doc hasn’t actually experienced SOMETHING of what a patient is talking about and feeling, then they’re not apt to connect with the person in a helpful way. Sort of like choosing a college-educated foreman for your Pepsi plant, someone who has never worked on the floor a day in their lives. They have NO understanding of what’s involved. You want a good leader? Choose someone who has lived that job. (Happened to a friend of mine from Montreal who works for Pepsi.. 😀 )
ANYWAY this was my vain attempt at trying to explain. LOL It was kind of fun in the end. Made me think about how sweets have such an easy time infiltrating my defenses! Especially THIS time of year!
When my doc asks me at my quarterly appointment
to tell of my diabetes struggles and difficulties,
my honest words pour out unchecked.
But I can never quite figure out
how to explain the hold and destructive power
a simple piece of candy can have over me,
the way it can sing my name like a supernatural Siren
to a ship full of mesmerized sailors.
Just the presence of candy in the house brings me to servility —
enslavement different from too many mashed potatoes
or other loud “white foods” that signal danger at meals.
Coquettishly, sweets cast their come-hither smiles in my direction
and I know that just the taste of a Hershey’s Kiss
would bring a euphoria of mind and spirit to my body.
Sweets mere presence anywhere in the house
captures my thoughts and imprisons my soul
by the intoxication and abuse they promise as they
assault my system with an elevated glucose level
that leaves me craving more yet longing for a place to recline,
to heal from the beating my body is taking.
How do I make her understand these small bits of refined sugar
are so much more powerful than I? That no matter how hard I try
to row my boat away from that island, the Siren has a way
of casting its spell insuring my total defeat with a chocolatey song…
Picture Source: Old Time Candy