Ode to Sinusitis

Ode to Sinusitis

Wonderful beautiful day in late winter
You tease and taunt with your lack of bluster
The sun shining, perusing my pale skin
Like my lover's hand as he draws me in.

I laugh and play like being in love is something new.
The gentle breeze coaxes me to smile and feel spring anew.
I walk through the day not knowing,
That in the end, it is I who will be blowing.

Busy, I was, being happily grateful,
That my flat tire did not make my car pull
On a day of snow, sleet, hail, or freezing rain.
Little did I know of the soon to come sinus pain.

I look back now, my little car on the road,
And think of the trouble, the ill will it bode.
I wish I could see that the road I was on,
Was leading to me wishing for hot Grey Poupon.

As I try to fight my slow internet connection,
I was unknowingly growing my own sinus infection.
I started out as a small, teeny, tiny cold.
But then I had to fight a foe so cleverly bold.

Friends of enemies, enemies of friends,
When will the strife ever quit as some word offends.
Words written, felt and by my hand,
Yet they are not allowed the privilege to stand.

My poor nose retaliated, the extra stress
Leaving my aching body weak and powerless.
The insidious infection came, the cold hiding it well
As my body loses its strength, it starts a sneezing spell.

The liquid rolling out in waves with each Achoo
So bad I went through a whole box of tissue.
And there you sit, far up on your high horse,
Leading others around and leaving very little recourse.

My poor nose, so stuffed up, what an ugly sight is
My face as it fights of the nasty thing we fondly call sinusitis.
Puffy, pale, blanch. Worst it swells up, feels sore.
I try to talk but there is no air that through my nose can bore.

I'm left frustrated and feeling as if I'm to be meek
When you should know I am not that weak.
I will fight for my right to be who I am, what I am,
Even as I'm fighting with my head and all my received spam.

Don't talk to me of what is or is not fair,
Don't politely yell at me and talk to me about color of hair.
I am many things. I am mother, wife, writer.
I am that I am and that includes a freedom fighter.

So sinusitis that fills my head and goes after a lung,
You may try and stop the words of my tongue.
But you will not stop my right to believe
In my right to be the best friend and my friend to receive.

I may sound as if my nose is a little runny ,
But most of it has stopped up my sinus so I sound funny.
And it hurts so much to have a sinus infection,
That one could almost wish for the rise and resurrection

Of zombies, those brain eating undead beasts.
Not the breakfast food all summer camps serve as feasts.
My poor head feels under pressure, about to explode.
It puts me in tired, cranky, fighting mode.

So don't try and placate me with false promises
That you are not trying to hurt me as my sinuses
Have been torturing me. Soon you will have to make a choice.
Already you are paying a price and losing the strength of your voice.

I refuse to lie down and become someone else's ideal.
I will be me, with all that means and be the one who's real.
I will be sleeping as I can, working hard to overcome
Sinus pressure and watch for the loss of welcome.

But hear me now, O sinus infection from Hell,
That although my body's on fire and my face has started to swell,
I am the writer, fighter, the survivor, more than surreal.
I will do what I must to find the strength to heal.

So watch out O all of you full of snot and putrescence,
That soon as I'm all better, I will smell your true essence.
I will be watching, waiting, knowing that the spy is you.
But hell is waiting for... no my nose! Achoo!