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On The Ventilator

By Bud Lemire

I tried my best not to get it, it could be fatal for me
Yet somehow it found me, now I'm caught in anxiety
That damn virus, breathing for me was hard
I tell you I did everything, I kept up my guard

Because of my health, it would be a trip through Hell
Here I am, on a ventilator, not doing very well
A tube down my throat, to help me breathe each day
Drugged up to help me sleep and heal, is the only way

Panic attacks come on, and I'm scared of where my future lies
In a room packed with so many, where the Covid patient dies
I wish they would take this tube out, but the time is not yet here
So when I am awake, I live each moment in fear

It's early December 2020, and I'm scared and alone
I just want to get better, and spend Christmas in my home
I know that healing takes time, especially for me and what I got
I tried so hard to avoid this Covid, but it's exactly what I caught

When I am awake, I text and reach out to my friends
I need to see their replies, in case my life ends
I'll grasp at anybody, I just hate being alone
I just want to spend my Christmas, in my home

Dec 03, 2020 Bud Lemire

Author Note:

I know someone very dear to me on the ventilator. It is
something I would not wish on anyone. It's to help them
breathe. The fear they must be going through, is so very
dark. Panic attacks, and so many thoughts of what could
happen. In a large room with others who have Covid. And
seeing them die all around in the same room. Wondering
and thinking “will I be next?” What keeps my friend going,
is the hope that it will get better, and be able to spend
Christmas at home.


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