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I was listening to the radio one morning and heard the announcement that it was National Complaining Day. Well, I certainly had a complaint and this poem is the result of my small but successful moan. We often hear concern expressed about cut-backs and ageism in our Health Service and of the various fund-raising Trusts set up under its auspices. I first became caught up in just such a situation when I was referred by my GP to the local Allington Trust for regular treatment by a chiropodist. You are about to find out why I am so often bare-footed!
When one no longer touches toes
The spin-off covers many woes
When mobility is less than 100 yards
'Tis joy to receive your chiropodist's cards
...I'm a survivor
For several years, say three or four
I've hobbled to Allington's front door
But appointments are often on the drag
Once there was eleven month's lag!
... count to ten, 'cos I'm a survivor
Bare-legged, I brave winter's rain and frost
Sandals reveal toe-nails long and crossed
They reach an inch beyond my shoes
And pick up dirt (not what I'd choose)
... repeat three times: "I'm a survivor"
These bare legs year round expose my plight
Wicked nails that catch in sock or tight
When I turn over in my bed
They hook up on the sheet instead
... remind myself, I'm a survivor
One nail curls underfoot with a wiggle
Hooks into carpet ~ I have to jiggle
My foot a while to gain release
Horrid to walk on ~ frustrations rarely cease
... philosophise, 'cos I'm a survivor
Given up S.O.S-ing Allington's phone
Their attitude just makes me groan
I'm not diabetic, told I've no priority
"Go private 'tween times, like the majority"
... it's hard being a survivor
Arthritic types diagnosed as four
M.E. in conflict ~ energy level poor
I've a wheelchair I can't lift from my car
Hoick around on crutches, but can't go far
Obesity prevents replacement hips and knees
C.T.S. and elbow pain continually tease
Live alone ~ trying to be of good cheer
But toe nails still grow in one's 70th year
Depressed, hooked up, torn off, bleeding
(there's eleven month's growth!)
The wait last time was seven months
On that I stake my oath
My whole being longs for a three-monthly date
Is normal driving now too risky to contemplate?
Will that small space in the car's foot-well
Accommodate my over-sized toe nail swell?
Should I yank out my usual front seat
Be a back-seat driver using clown-sized feet?
... THANK GOODNESS I'M A SURVIVOR!
By 10am next morning, I received a phone call from a laughing Trust Manager WITH AN APPOINTMENT! I may not have put the National Health Trust back on its feet, but at least I refocused it onto mine! Dawn
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