The Clumsiest Caregiver’s Compression Stocking Catastrophe
A desperate, loving, and very foolishly rhyming confession
I’m the world’s worst caregiver, it’s honestly shocking,
Poor Anne, my beloved, stands noble but rocking
On the edge of collapse, as I fumble –such bungling!
Shower time’s chaos, she’s slipping and sloshing,
Faucets drip, towels tumble; I’m cloddish and gawking.
Dressing’s a circus, buttons all blocking
Shirts In disarray; zippers all mocking.
I’m lifting and shifting with arms that are balking,
So utterly stuck; my clumsiness shocking.
Manual dexterity? More like the plodding
Claws of a Triceratops, who’s appalling at socking.
I fumble, I bumble, and often end up balking.
Her poor, ravaged legs – thanks to steroids all swelling,
Need compression stockings, the bane of her frocking,
They sit there, unbending, just scornfully snarking.
I tug and I wrestle, my fingers are locking,
Each movement’s a dance of disaster and squawking.
If you feel like keeping track of Anne’s cancer journey, I’m chronicling it in prose and poetry here:
https://robertmcbrydeauthor.com/news/
Your friend,
Robert
https://robertmcbrydeauthor.com/
