Dear Brain

Following my stroke last August, I have made a very good physical recovery.  My hand is almost back to it's former self although my signature is difficult, writing a letter now takes several days and getting coins out of my purse when I am tired is a slow process.  Very often people say "you don't look as though you have had a stroke" or "you have made a total recovery"  I find these comments hard to deal with because they do not easily allow me to say "actually I'm struggling"  My brain is far from recovered, the intense "tangibility" of my brain is uncomfortable and frightening, the "hot brain" feeling I get is horrible.  The brain fog is annoying.  I cannot study like I used to, I cannot think in depth without encountering these feelings......I have not made a total recovery.....yet.


Here I write a poem to my brain, telling it that I know it is struggling, I know it is injured and I will be patient...........

Dear Brain, I've heard your desperate plea,

the frustration you have shown

Impassioned cries you've made to me

Your voice unrecognised, unknown

It took some time to realise

That it was you I heard

The thought that my own brain could speak

to me, was once absurd

You fought for my attention

But I looked the other way

I turned life's music louder

To drown out what you'd say

I've been scared by your new presence

For you tangibly exist

And I do not like the feeling

One tiny little bit.

Now you get so hot and bothered

And through treacle I must wade

Things are not quite like they used to be

And sometimes I'm afraid.

So I'm listening when you tell me

That I must stop and rest

Though I'm oft inclined to argue

I'll accept your way is best.

For I'd like you to recover

though I don't know when you will

for I cannot see your injury

But I know that you've been ill

And they've shown me all the pictures

of the damage so I know

I must be patient with you

When you appear slow

Dear Brain, I feel your struggle

But together we'll win through

Just keep on getting better

and I'll go easier on you.

Karen Holmes

March 18^th 2011