Faithful Companion
Category: Poetry
Medication Overload
How do you know when you are over medicated? Do your doctors collaborate on your treatment of various illnessesWith that she took me off the Rituxan drip. I left that visit Dumbfounded. I had no idea RA could go into remission the following visit the rheumatologist replaced the reduction with a different drug. I did not understand why I needed the new drug if my RA was in remission. Doctor says it is maintenance to keep it in The stage. My psychiatric meds aren’t much better. I take several psych meds and disorder pills. He prescribes one and adjust another. Five separate medication‘s to treat my several mood disorders.
Grandparents that raise their grandchildren
Over the years I’ve had many grandparents raising grandkids frequent my place of employment. Have always had respect for them. Until recently, I had no idea how exhausting and stressful it could be. My son and his wife went on a four-day vacation and I stayed with the three kids. It was absolutely exhausting. The minute my butt cheeks hit the couch. There was one screaming “grandma come here”. The meals, laundry, baths and picking up never ends. What I’m getting at is that if you see grandparents raising grandkids, pat them on the back. I only did it for four days, and was ready to lose my sanity.
I Love My Birds
Finding Balance Eludes Me
You’d think with all the medications I am on that it would keep my moods under control. My thoughts lately I’ve kept myself. Needless to say, most of them are mean. I refuse to let them escape me.
I roll all these thoughts around in my head day and night. The conversations I’ve had with loved ones playing in my head. I picked them apart, one by one to decipher their meaning. The only change my doctor has made with my meds is swapping my Wellbutrin at night for olanzapine.
The doctor did this because he was seeing symptoms of paranoia in me. There is paranoia in my family genetics, the doctor actually a couple doctors have told me they think my pot smoking is causing several illnesses in me. I had never heard anything so stupid. I asked if I should quit for a few weeks and see. She said full results of quitting wouldn’t show for six months. I decided to do my research on the subject. In some cases by quitting, the issues fix themselves, and when the person starts back symptoms return.
I am sick of not thinking right. I started my pot free life five days ago. I pray that it fixes some of the wrong thinking. Also a few other things as well.
I could use some encouragement or advice. I haven’t blogged in quite some time. If I blog more often, it would probably benefit me. I’ve been in the state of “if you can’t say anything nice don’t say anything at all”. I have been hiding from society, I don’t like the monster in me.
Prisoner of My Thoughts
A time to vent is difficult to find,
Thoughts held captive by my mind.
Some things are better left unsaid,
As chaos rolls about in my head.
For years I’ve searched for the key,
As of yet nothing works for me.
A prisoner I feel to this disease,
Self control I use so no one sees.
Inside I feel like I’m a mess,
Forever wishing I’d worry less.
Coping skills I have a few,
They factor into everything I do.
From this prison I wish to be released,
No one cares even the least.
If I am quiet there is a reason why,
My thoughts make me a not nice guy.
Jill L. Ware
Main Street USA
Once busy with hustle and flow, Main Street the place to go.
Alive with families supporting their own, Main Street a place outgrown.
Cars cruising up and down the street, A Friday night couldn’t be beat.
All you needed could be found there, Now people shop online without a care.
Hometown businesses a thing of the past, How much longer can Main Street last?
I’m guilty of doing the same, Main Street dying what a shame.
Jill L. Ware
The Hike
Walking along the beaten path, trodden down by travelers past.
A creek runs parallel along the way, upon the banks it’s ripples play.
A twig snaps from some place near, it is my friend Mr. Deer.
The yipping of a fox heard from afar, telling me stay where you are.
This terrain can be a beast, it isn’t easy to say the least.
The beauty that I see, worth the trek to me.
The raccoon wears his menacing mask, foraging is his task.
As I near rabbits scurry away, after I pass returning to their play.
The squirrel it’s agility freeing, is content with being.
Hawks glide above with style and grace, something special is this place.
Awaiting Spring
Nature brings us ice and snow, in time cold will secede to the Heat. Soon colors of green begin to show, old man winter will retreat.
We see the children in the park as they play, their laughter lifts our Spirits High. The birds sing inviting spring to stay, happy and content to keep them we try.
Rabbits as they hop to their destination, taking time to fight along the way. The trees buds begin to sprout, along with the perennials left lay. Spring awaited a treat no doubt, she is beautiful a day like today.
The queen bee searches for something to eat, after her winter in solitude, the butterflies beauty cannot be beat, along with the bee shows his gratitude.
The Woodpecker taps the tree to show it belongs to him, he doesn’t like to share. Frogs and tadpoles start to appear, the frogs in the distance we hear.
Soon it will be time to fish, spring awaited and answered wish.
JILL L. WARE
Finding Fall
To find the colors of fall you don’t have to look far, They are all around wherever you are.
The Birch with the color of bright yellow, calling after me as if to say be my fellow.
The Hickory with colors of golden bronze, across the lake the breeze it’s leaves calms.
The dogwood with leaves of purple red, as if it says words left unsaid.
The poplar with leaves of golden yellow, standing out as it screams hello.
The Tupelo with colors of red, soon it’s leaves will be dead.
The mighty oak its leaves golden Brown, it’s nuts the squirrels take down.
The sugar Maple with the color of Orange red, soon its leaves it will shed.
The ash colorful and its purple,yellow and red, sorry Birch I choose the ash instead.
Cool nights sitting by the fire, of this life I will never tire.
Watch the colors change when you can, this beauty provided to us by the Man.
Our Roses Were Yellow 
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