Feeling a bit squeezed emotionally?

 Lately I have been feeling like a tube of toothpaste.

Stuff keeps happening and although I feel like there's no

more ''life''(paste) that can be squeezed out of me, something

happens and I'm squeezed yet again.

For about eight months now my son's health has been

deteriorating. Trying to find the reason for this, my son and I have

sought help from numerous experts.

''Maybe this expert may know'' we hope as we crisscross

the country in search for answers.

But so far, the answer to my son's illness seems to elude

every darn expert. (Not only that, often my son is treated

as if whatever ails him is ''all in his head''.)

Each time my son is treated with disdain, arrogance

and lack of empathy I can see hope and life

being squeezed out of him.

Though we have come far medically and technically

since leeches and blood letting, it seems that when it comes

 to compassion, patience and empathy for patients; 

aka ''bedside manners'', more work needs to be done.

Since my son's condition started to deteriorate he has asked

me to be present at his doctors/hospitals/experts appointments.

This has given me the chance to make some observations.

For instance: There is no touching unless one insists.

One has to ask if the doctor/expert has read, and/or has access to

all the patient's files, scans, MRI's, Ultra Sounds, prescriptions,

 etc. etc.

One has to ask: ''If this is not your area, who do you

suggest we see next?''

When my son was prescribed a particular medication

I researched the medication and discovered that taking it

could cause dangerous side-effects as it did not mix with

the medication my son already takes.

When I pointed that out to two of the experts they responded

very brusquely and basically shoved us out the door.

 Worst of it all is that my son is often treated with

a lack of compassion or any kind of positive input.

I have lost count of how many times we have left

appointments with our hopes dashed and feeling that

my son is not a patient but rather....a bad customer.

Driving home

As soon as I hear him close the car door, 

 his hope, his heart, drops to the floor.

A moment of silence,

calm before the storm,

I know what is coming,

as we journey back home.

Out pours his anger, 

fears and frustrations,

unfettered feelings

emotions reeling.

I focus on the road

I try to stay calm,

I listen intently,

I do no harm.

Slowly but surely,

his fury subsides,

his venting finished,

pushed back deep inside.

Alas, I am the catcher,

of the pain my son endures,

to lift, to bear, to carry,

to hope and reassure.

As we arrive at home,

we've both run out of words,

we share a meal in silence,

as hope and heart returns.

(Citizen Z)

Though I am feeling a bit squeezed out at the moment,

....there's always a little bit left.

about the image: pen on paper Photoshopped