an old writer and his words

  • NAME THAT

    It should be daunting, sittingin a waiting area in a gownthat is open in the back, the roomlike most all in such officesmore refrigerator than lounge.She smile and says “It’s your turn,we’ll do one, take another patientand then the other. Is that okay?”A nice question but it isn’t likeI have any real choice.The MRI tube…

    Lou Faber

  • NEVER IMAGINING

    The bridge was there finally, and with some trepidation she crossed it. She knew it led to a brave (hopefully) new world. She knew it would take time and a lot of work to acclimate herself to this alien land, but she also knew there could be no turning back, for the place she knew…

    Lou Faber

  • SLIPPAGE

    As sight slowly slips away, asthe macula continues its retreat,the sense of your senses must change.We are driven by sight; and sound, tastetouch and smell are really just valued adjuncts.The Bard of Avon suggested that the eyesare windows to the soul, and oh how manyseers want to help you look into the future.We are told…

    Lou Faber

  • ONCE, AGAIN

    His mind was dancingwhile his feet were firmly anchoredto the unyielding ground.It has long been this wayhis mind demanding a freedomhis body is incapable of granting.But in his dreams his body hasinfinite flexibility, can moveas the mind needs only to imagine.those moments of freedom, he knowswill depart when the day once againimprisons him, locking himin…

    Lou Faber

  • TOGETHER

    It is easy to say all of the wrong thingsto someone you imagine disabled,some obvious, some less so, butstop and consider if that personhas a partner, a lover, a spouse.What do you say to that personwho lives with the same disability,not wearing it but bearing itto a lesser degree nonetheless?As I lose my vision, my…

    Lou Faber

  • OR

    I can safely say I don’t miss the dayswhen they wheeled you into the operating room,smiling you assumed behind the masks,as you shift from gurney to table, your open gownflapping about like some wind driven flag.You would lie there staring up at the massive lightsthankfully were turned on, blinding you, watchedas they placed the mask…

    Lou Faber

  • EYE TO EYE

    So tomorrow he’ll tell meit’s stable and he will smileI think that’s why he wentinto ophthalmology and notoncology, telling patientsthat they have cancer and thensmiling wouldn’t play welland I am willing to bet that hecannot help himself, heis just one of those smilers.And strangely, I will take solacethat my right eye is notappreciably more blindthan…

    Lou Faber

  • IN PASSING

    As we walk along the shoreof the man-made lakein the planned community’s “town,”the birds array themselvesin a ragged single fileas I pass and I imagined eachlooks up at me posing.Once I would’ve stopped,raised my camera, capturedthem, or their facsimilebut those days are donefor I no longer blog themone thousand posts gone byand my back and…

    Lou Faber

  • A SIMPLE PROCEDURE

    The needle slips into the armjust above the wrist, it isa bringer of pain, a bringerof relief from pain, it is coldunder the now tepid blanket.The nurse, ever cheerful, saysit is time now, raises the bed railand the anesthetist presses gentlyon the plunger of the hypodermicand the drugs ooze slowly intothe patiently waiting vein.As they…

    Lou Faber

  • A THOUSAND

    There is a far less obviousbut very important reasonto be a poet, a bit less so, but stilla good reason to write prose.Perhaps you will say that myreason is wholly and solelyaudience specific, and youwould be at least partially right,for if, like me, you are inthe process of losing your sight,or have already done so,…

    Lou Faber