Voices from the UK's pulmonary hypertension community
COVID-19
Can I see?
Opening my eyes
Vision, exploring the room
I struggle to breathe
Draining my strength
–
Nurse collecting my blood
I wonder, how long can I last?
Now sleeping
Every hour that passes
The lonely passage
Encouragement all around me
Eventually, the battle won,
NHS – thanks are not enough….
“This poem was the result of a competition set by the organiser of our bowls tournaments.
We used to take part in a tournament of Bocci (garden bowls) during the summer months, among about 20 friends, in a variety of gardens – some big with flat lawns, others small or very bumpy patches of grass! A good buffet lunch was provided between us all at each venue, and a little alcohol may have been consumed too. A table was kept of games played, all members playing each other. At Christmas we would meet for lunch and present the winner with a small glass trophy.
“During lockdown the organiser decided to set a poetry competition for us instead. We could enter as many times as we liked. We then looked at them all and voted for our favourites. Mine was the overall winner.”
Caroline Childs
