My son had thumped me soundly, with delight, and made me squeal,
That’s ‘cause he is a sadist and my pain goes with the deal.
Don’t judge him harshly, honest… to be fair, there is a knack
To get the heavy Thumper in the muscles of my back.
The massage-torture instrument was plied with too much glee…
The ‘sadist’ on the other end is usually me…
I cannot really blame him for the relish he applied
Returning many favours, with me on the other side.
My back and shoulders felt like they’d been trodden by a horse,
Which after several days of hell, is just par for the course.
At least now all the aches and pains are all that I am feeling,
It’s good to see things looking up and finally, I’m healing.
The stuff that screwed my system up is thankfully degrading.
The bruises from the cannulas (yes plural) are now fading…
(I’ve noticed that the nursing staff are better at their placement
Perhaps the docs don’t practice ‘cept on corpses in some basement
Who seldom scream when needle point embroiders on scar tissue…
But overstressed, emotional admissions might take issue…).
I’m feeling so much better now my head is back to working
(Though not so pleased at catching up on duties I’ve been shirking…)
The worst of it’s admitting the arachnophobes were right…
That even little spiders can give you a nasty fright.