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| Tremor Tales page 13 |
| The Menace Of It It was many years ago when it first hit. I was thirteen, so innocent. How weird it was, as I sat in the pew, To look behind and see a few Of the congregation staring at me. Why was this? I tensed immediately, And my head shuddered as I turned back. I tried to stop this spasm but its attack Could not be controlled, and I was afraid. It stopped when I relaxed, but it forbade Its demise when effort to hold my book Of prayers set it off again. I was hooked By a tremor strange as I sat there, A healthy boy once without care. Was church the cause; to be avoided? No. But this I knew not, until diagnosed With essential tremor; my nemesis That plagues me still in maturity. Although trapped in this tremor abyss, I daily rise above the menace of it. |
| When You're Nuts Like Me I, with anathema to the mundane, Do hereby will away monotony. Oh I may be nuts, my good sense slain By thoughts more then quirky, But that is the way I was born to be. This I know, for only forty-five kilometres Separate me from the peanut capital Of Queensland, Australia's center Of agreeable nuts that nourish all. There, a shrine stands for my audacity To find humor in my tremors, for you see, This plight has no grip when you're nuts like me. |
| Moto Man What was she thinking this wife of mine, Gifting me with a semi-private course Of instruction in motocross? And taught By a four time national champ?! A desire For my demise this Father's Day? Well, No way would this challenge I decline. I had a great time driving the course, Even while shouts came my way From bystanders who thought my tremor Nervousness. "Calm down! Stop shaking!" Yes, I rode shaking like a Maytag washer Out of balance, but as I raced the track My good time and focus stayed stable. Thank you dear wife for this motocross gift, It got me back to what for me is bliss. And though my tremor was worsened by the ride, I came away with healthy pride. |
| Eyes Focused Forward From doctors' good intentions I set myself free. Intentions that so seldom helped me. I'll live each day victorious and strong With faith that one day my pain will be gone. No more fatigue and additional aches From traveling the many miles it takes Just to hear, "I've no meds that can heal." I'll cut my losses, and with peace of heart sealed I'll go on, a man with eyes focused forward From stormy seas to gentle breezes shoreward. |
| Unfeigned Courage A child with my features cringes in a corner, While I, an adult, stand feigning no fear. Is he a denied part of me? Oh no, yes. He is me as a youth tormented, Stripped of self-worth by words spoken In cruelty of his tremor affliction. I must restore his resilience or at last Crumble, a victim of those words long past. I dredge through and examine them only To find them void of verity. Suddenly, the child rises, smiles and is gone. And for the first time in my life a song Of self-confidence lifts my carriage, And I find myself filled with unfeigned courage. |
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| Transcendental Meditation "Should I try transcendental meditation?" I asked. "Perhaps it would help my tremors." "Yes, do lots of it," agreed my doctor. Woe, I obeyed. When in deep rumination With someone closely watching me, My head shuddered uncontrollably. And TM leaders were ALWAYS on the go Looking to see who might have 'bad karma'. Well they classified my shaking drama As aberrant, so grouped me with the weirdos. Sheesh, I was already low on self-esteem. After a crisis of excessive shaking, Which I thought was a nervous breakdown, I joined a full-on eastern meditation Monestery and meditated harder. And I wound up with mood swings of fear and anger. Got out quick and looked to the Internet To research why I shook like an Airforce jet About to break the speed of sound. Success! Essential Tremors is what I found. For payback, I sent my doc an invitation For a course in transcendental meditation. |
| High Above All, Unseen Out of the nerve-wracking public eye My tremors did settle, by and by. No more would I play the piano, nor sing. Nor do my loved stage work ruined by shaking. Chef de Cuisine became my profession, Till I was asked to go on television To cook up one of my scrumptious dishes. I warned the producers of my twitches And to have my Sous-Chef take over. But without worry, they said, "It's just jitters." Well, my brothers and sisters with E T, My shaking spoiled my cooking for the gallery. They laughed, and the hosts did their best To hold the show together with well-timed jests. Thus ended my Chef skill, but I'm pleased to say I now have a job driving the highways In a semi truck. I sit high above all, Unseen, as our beautiful land I travel. No panic attacks, nor pressures plague me. What a glorious job for one with E T. |
| Prodigious Rapport My neuro had me touch his nose. His finger, too, as ordered impatiently. This follow up appointment I chose, Given that my shakes now possessed all of me. I clipped his nose and scratched his finger, Tremor control I could not muster. When he ordered I walk heel to toe I snorted, "But I can barely stand!" He looked sideways at me and said, "Then go. I can verify your tremors have worsened, But they're not a life altering condition. They're just a minor nuisance, stop gripin'." And when he ended with, "You're fine. Deal With it," I slugged him out of diagnosis Dreamland. "How's that for dealing with your Prognosis?" "Oww!" he wailed. "Perhaps it was Amiss!" Satisfied, I wobbled my way out the door In search of a neuro with prodigious rapport. . |
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