Written by Susan Lane

The Odd Shoe

A personal account of love, loss, and the quiet failures of care. Told through the lens of one odd shoe and a hospital stay that should have ended differently, this poem reflects the aftermath of grief, where memory lingers and truth refuses to be tidied away.

Have I mentioned the friendly mechanic 
He used to live with me 
He went to hospital in Dartford 
Into Darent Valley in December 2023

On admission they immediately gave him 
A blood transfusion, 
He wasn’t good you see
When I visited him later that day,
He was looking so good in comparison
With early morning when I’d said 
Good bye I’ll see you later today 

He was so chatty 
Laughing and joking with me 
He’d gotten friendly with the guys 
In the beds next door 
He felt so much better 
Than he had before

He told me that once the 
Transfusion was done, 
Then dialysis it would be 
Next on the list 
Of treatment for him 
He was so pleased 
Having been in before 
For the very same thing 

Spending a week in Intensive Care 
Having dialysis for days on end 
All tubes and nurses 
Twenty-four hours a day 
Complete bed rest, 
Barely conscious for the first three days 

Then onto the dialysis ward 
For another five weeks 
Surely, they must have had records 
At which they could have taken a peek 
Because of that they should have known 
And should have realised 
He was a priority 

Odd Change of Fortune

Well, obviously not, because 
Next day I went in, 
No dialysis, but he was doing ok 
Just a bit grim 
We sat and chatted like you do 
About all kinds of things 
That when he got home 
He wanted to do 

Unfortunately, 
That wasn’t going to happen 
Because you see, 
I got there at 6 pm, he was asleep 
He hadn’t been well 
Since he’d had his lunchtime curry 
He told them to ring me 
He wasn’t feeling good 
And had thrown up all his food

The phone call forgotten 
I arrived, I know he was unwell 
But he didn’t look good to me 
They obviously didn’t see 
The significance that could 
Clearly be seen by me 

He really wasn’t well 
And the young nurse obviously thought 
I was overreacting you see, 
But she hadn’t been with and seen him 
As long as me 

All Hell Let Loose

She checked him and said he was fine 
I wasn’t convinced so said try again 
Next thing I know she hits the buzzer 
Then all around me 
All the doctors in creation were 
There working on him 

I was gradually ushered out of the ward 
Along the corridor away from the melee 
Then the doctor came and tried to explain 
They were still working on him 
Trying to make me believe 
That after nearly an hour with no heartbeat 
He would return to me 
The same as he’d always been 

Well, I just knew it wasn’t to be 
With no oxygen to the brain 
How could he survive and be the same 
The doctor went and a few minutes later
Came back again 
To tell me that was the end 

He was gone you see, 
That man, the love of my life 
Did no longer breathe 
Without a heartbeat 
There was nothing they could do 
But . . .

I still blame them you see 
I am sure, if he’d had the dialysis 
Like they said he would 
He would still be here with me 
They said it couldn’t be done 
But why I’ve often wondered 

If there wasn’t room on the ward
Why didn’t they just take his bed 
Up to there, give him the treatment 
As an emergency then take him back to 
Where he was, it wasn’t rocket science 
And to consider that, didn’t take a degree 

I know that’s really selfish of me 
And the junior doctor’s strike 
Really wasn’t a concern for me 
They just needed to make him better 
So that he could come back home to me

He Was Gone from Me

That was the last time 
He was actually seen by me
With him on the bed, 
All still and warm
I had to gather everything he’d worn

I got home with all his bags in hand
This wasn’t in anyway, anywhere near
Anything either of us had planned
With all the things I needed or had to do
I never thought I would have to start
To do it all without him 

Having to check everything 
I needed help to get through it all 
To get it done and be sure 
There wasn’t any more 
Everything official don’t you see 
Just a quick “fly by” so it’s all seen to be 

Completed and done by everyone 
In their official capacity 
I know it’s never going to be the same 
We didn’t actually think that far ahead 
And consider that he would actually be dead 
But here I am going through his belongings 
From the hospital ward you see 

I’ve found there’s only one odd shoe 
I have no idea where the other odd one might be 
Now because of that 
I’m missing him even more as well 
But on the past, I mustn’t dwell 
There’s so much I must do, so much to see 

Death, Financial Difficulty and the Odd Shoe

And even worse is to come 
After nearly forty years 
And his assurances to me 
We weren’t married 
Or in a civil partnership you see 
Therefore, not a penny comes to me 
From his pension company 

And that one odd shoe 
Will always be a reminder to me 
Just four days’ time and it would be  
Christmas Eve, it might be time 
For you to celebrate 
But unfortunately, I shall be 
In the depths of grief 
Merry Christmas, Darent Valley!

© Susan Lane. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted in any form without prior written permission from the author.

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More poems written by Susan Lane, and you can choose by category

Blog | Organic voice | A happy survival of triumph here

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