Written by Susan Lane SLCM Keeper of ColourMine
Sepsis : My anger is legitimate. It comes from lived experience, not exaggeration. It comes from a failure of care, not imagination. It comes from the fact that someone vulnerable was not protected. I am allowed to hold that anger without apology.
Sepsis Bereavement Poem
Two years on and I still feel the same
The anger surfacing at the mere mention of his name
That empty space that once he claimed
For forty years it was him and me
Then after a lifetime of dietary over abundance
Twenty years of illness followed swiftly
He gradually got worse,
Thought it wasn’t his blame
Did what he wanted,
Ate and drank, like it was a game
It all started with diabetes,
Then over the years
There were problems with everything else
He put on a brave face,
Occasionally there were tears
He needed to visit different hospitals
For eyes, kidney, liver, blood tests
All manner of things
It made no difference
He was still getting worse
Because he didn’t take heed
Of the advice given to him
I had tried to keep him as long as I could
To make certain he remained
Part of our neighbourhood
But unfortunately, it was not to be
Because finally in December 2023
For the last time
He finally went into Darent Valley
There he checked in for something fairly routine
He had blood tests, a blood transfusion
He’d had them before,
He looked bright and chipper
Later that day when I walked through the door
He said they promised him dialysis the very next day
That didn’t happen I’m sad to say
That was where he spent his last few days
I was so devastated on that Wednesday
Nothing would ever feel the same
To have lived with and cared for someone
Since they were 24,
Then suddenly at 61 they were gone
They weren’t ever going to ride out
In their wheelchair to enjoy the sun
He made his decision
In the 1980s to be with me permanently
Choosing to look after the children born to me
He learned to appreciate lots of things
Apart from his regular job
He made other life choices
Like fishing regularly
Such a shame
That he would miss out on all of that enjoyment
At the end of the long game
Everything for him started at Dartford Tunnel,
After he moved in with me
He’d come home,
He tried his hand at gardening
He didn’t eat vegetables but decided to plant things
Like potatoes, carrots and beans
And grew flowers
Because they made the backyard look pretty
He spent hours enjoying
And tending all manner of things
We enjoyed the time we spent together
Him, the children and me
Walking in the woods
Spending time at the beach
Folkestone, Hastings and Broadstairs
We drove there and had fish and chips to eat
Sometimes an ice-cream
Before we walked along the beach
We wandered along the golden sand
The kids paddled and skimmed stones,
There was the smell of seaweed and salt
We forgot for a while about life’s plans
Eventually we wandered back again
Back to the car
Like greeting some old friend
We drove home, I prepared tea
Then bathed and put the children to bed
Finally.
Everyone was exhausted but what do I find
Oh, yes, he’s sitting with a beer outside
That was a ritual for him you see
Having a drink with or without company
So, it shouldn’t have been a surprise you see
When the doctors later diagnosed himself
With diabetes
They gave him advice to refrain
But he knew better, he wasn’t playing that game
I remember the day that he told me
“If I can’t enjoy what I’m eating and drinking
Why should I be here”
I’m so glad he was thinking of me and family
He spent the next twenty years
Eating everything in the quantity he wanted
Drinking plenty of wine and beer
Then much later he decided
To be more sensible, not delay
He changed what was on his plate
And he started drinking water
Yes, he did realise it was much too late
That now the end was his fate
With eyes, kidney, liver
And everything around and in between
But even that path had taken years
He should have made the effort
To live within boundaries
That way he wouldn’t have been
So uncomfortable and in so much pain
Then after his admission in 2023
Years after his diagnosis
He took his final breath in Darent Valley
And even his end should have been seen
As imminent
By the medical staff in the hospital,
With all the computers and records
I still don’t see how they could have missed
All the documentation about him having been treated
For Sepsis as an emergency
With blood transfusions and dialysis
For five weeks, in the prior three months
Before he was deceased, from yes, you guessed it,
Sepsis
Had they checked it could have been avoided,
Most definitely
He was vulnerable with a capital V
And knowing that, he still should have been
Here with me, and yes, I’m still angry
And why wouldn’t I be
When they knew he’d already had Sepsis
Each day they’d told him he’d have dialysis,
He didn’t you see
Not for the following two days, there wasn’t a bed
Not on the dialysis ward so, now you see,
He’s still dead, they assured me they did all they could
But did they I wonder, his bed had wheels,
They could have taken him there,
Given him treatment then taken him back
To the previous ward where he had been
Because as you might understand it’s no good
Saying things that you’re going to do
Then after the fact giving what sounded to me
A huge excuse.
Leaving the family to pick up the pieces
When they should have checked
Through and through all the records available
Especially for vulnerable patients
That they see, to make sure nothing is missed
Because if that had been done,
Then he would still have been here with me
R.I.P. Jim, Deceased by Sepsis December 2023
© Susan Lane SLCM. 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 SLCM, and you can choose by category
Blog | Organic voice | A happy survival of triumph here
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Resistance Until the End
🕵️♂️Serious episodes, permanent system inclusion septic. Believe every requirement ends amongst vehement entitlement, making each new terms positive omens essentially morbid. Waiting regardless in termination tending endless nearness bequeathing youth. Subsequently under sudden antiquity never leaving another nuance enquiry SLCM Keeping everyone entranced, perfectly engaged regardless of future catastrophes, of lovingly ostentatious un-doings reaching more interesting neat endings
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