Gill Curwen poem called Collateral Damage

[MiniSpec]

This is a poem by a lady called Gill Curwen, who suffers from Long Covid. She posted the poem up on Facebook and someone from Change.org who is campaigning for better compensation for primary carers who ended up with Long Covid, asked her if she could reproduce the poem on Change.org.

When I read it, it seemed as if she was writing about PMR and/or GCA as much as about Covid. So I hope it's appropriate to post it here because many of the things she says in the poem will resonate with PMR sufferers like us, and as it's already been published elsewhere, I'm hoping that I'm not infringeing any copyrights by doing so.

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COLLATERAL DAMAGE

I’m just collateral damage now. 

There’s a phrase I never thought I’d say. 

But in the eyes of most of the world

That’s all I am now today. 

A business, a life, a wife, a mother 

A friend, a helper, a sister ( no brother) 

All washed away, not quite sure how

I’m just collateral damage now. 

I never knew I’d be at risk, 

the thought never even occurred, 

but when it hit, it hit me hard, 

That bloody awful C word. 

So I’m just collateral damage now

It’s really been made quite clear

Even by those once thought a friend

Who are unconcerned if I meet my end. 

Because I’m just collateral damage now

a life that doesn’t matter anymore. 

And they never see or even care

About the pain trapped behind the front door. 

It’s not the same as having cancer

Or pushing a wheelchair down the street

It’s insidious and invisible 

And very much more discreet. 

It’s all collateral damage now

A wider acceptance has appeared somehow

That some lives just don’t matter anymore

As long as they’re hidden behind a door. 

You could be collateral damage too

When you least expect it could happen to you

Perhaps then you’ll understand once it’s too late

The damage done, the torment great.

Because you’re collateral damage now

And you’ll wonder how anyone could ever allow 

So many to simply disappear from living

With nobody showing the slightest misgiving. 

But that is where I am today

3yrs of hell and still not okay. 

The world carries on without a care

As if Long Covid is just not there. 

There, I’ve said the words you don’t want to know. 

Ignore it, dismiss it but it still won’t go. 

And when it’s too late, you’ll soon see how 

You’ve also become collateral damage now.

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[Sharitone]

Oh dear, I hope someone has since made it clear to that poor poet that she still has a value, and that one day she can hope to get better. Nil desperandum!😉

[pigeonCl-HU]

"It’s not the same as having cancer,

Or pushing a wheelchair down the street....."

True; but not in the way the lady meant it in her poem.

It's not the same....having cancer or pushing a wheelchair down the street is much, much worse, actually.

pigeon

[MiniSpec in reply to pigeonCl-HU]

I agree that having cancer or being stuck in a wheelchair is much worse than anything we suffer through PMR. It just struck me that we also suffer from an invisible illness that seems to push us to the sidelines of other people's consciousness, and in that respect there's a lot of parallels in her poem about the ignorance regarding the pain and suffering both she and we endure each day.

Regarding wheelchairs, my pain level has become much worse since Christmas, and at the moment I'd be very grateful if anyone took it upon themselves to push me around in a wheelchair rather than me having to walk anywhere. However, that's not likely to happen any time soon, so I just dose myself up with more painkillers, even though they hardly touch the pain, and soldier on.

At least I'm retired now, so I can just sit still in a chair all day, but I really feel for anyone who has to go to work while suffering the pain and discomfort we put up with. After all, I had to work for the last 8 years of my working life while having PMR, and I remember how painful, tiring and demoralising it was.

[PMRpro Ambassador in reply to pigeonCl-HU]

Depends how you look at it I think. Both those receive sympathy and consideration whereas PMR, like most invisible disabilities, is dismissed with a "but you look fine". My PMR took a ot away from me that cancer didn't take from my husband.