I wrote this poem about my experience of bacterial meningitis, for which I was hospitalised in March 2025.
It’s a strange old concept, meningitis,
And one that not many understand,
In the blink of an eye, one’s life changes,
Luck of the draw as to just how you’ll land,
Meningitis it does not take prisoners,
Relentless and ruthless, the course,
The wake of destruction behind it,
Without second thought or remorse,
No uniformity in one's symptoms,
For each individual unique,
Don’t dismiss a severe headache and vomiting,
No stiff neck or rash of to speak,
The pain is just indescribable,
Like your head is locked in a vice,
Second by second, it’s tightening,
Any solace would gladly suffice,
Ibuprofen succeeds paracetamol,
Liquid Morphine dosed upon top,
All you long for is to sleep now,
For the acute agony to stop,
Intensive care an additional layer,
To awaken there and think it’s a dream,
Piece together the timeline beforehand,
Days lost, things aren’t as they seem,
Muscle wastage is quite frankly alarming,
The rapid rate at which it declines,
You awaken, your body unrecognisable,
Those legs, are you sure they are mine?
The dizziness that now pervades you,
If you try to raise up your head,
The hidden perils of adjustment,
From enforced endless days in bed,
Slow and steady as she goes now,
As you descend upon your feet,
Concentration is the key here,
Simply no capacity to greet,
Place focus on your feet there,
One step before the last,
Your head feels like a whirlwind,
As if a train were racing past,
The things that you once did,
Like standing for a shower,
To begin with, insurmountable,
Devoid of any power,
The fatigue is something that hits you,
Like a wave and you’re suddenly submerged,
Simple tasks you did without thinking,
It’s now like a tidal wave surged,
The headaches are a chronic sequela,
With tiredness a familiar friend,
It’s important to maintain a clear focus,
Than dwell on an alternative end,
Concentration is somewhat a challenge,
It’s like the brain simply says no,
Light and noise are incredibly annoying,
Evoke the need to escape, get out, go!
Busyness is to be avoided,
It’s somewhat difficult to explain,
The intensity your brain feels,
A thunder clap, then rain,
Recovery they say is a journey,
A road without a set course,
Navigation minus a compass,
A river miles from its source,
A day at a time's the way forward,
No pressure, expectation or timeframe,
For everyone’s journey is different,
Therefore, no two recoveries the same,
In this life, we take much for granted,
Rarely afford time to stop and reflect,
In an instance that rug can be pulled from us,
And life alters like we never expect.
