Waiting for an answer – a poem about a very sick child

Waiting for an answer

Our dear boy was born,

On a Monday, I remember;

He came into this world,

On a bright day in September.

 

Our firstborn, he was beautiful,

I really was amazed;

My love so overwhelming,

I felt completely dazed.

 

The doctor came to see us,

His face was set and grim;

Our gorgeous baby boy,

Had something wrong with him.

 

I took him down to x-rays,

Not serious, they said;

So little we knew then,

So easily mislead.

 

Uncomplicated, straight forward,

The specialist calm and kind;

Eighteen operations later,

I think he’s changed his mind.

 

Eighteen times under anaesthetic,

Our brave young lad went;

We anxiously sat outside,

And prayers upward sent.

 

Waiting in a hospital,

Such a hard thing to do;

Every fear and worry amplified,

And shared with very few.

 

Twelve long years later,

A disease they did find;

Dermalogical in nature,

It created quite a bind.

 

A treatment plan in place,

It is truly my belief;

Having a diagnosis,

Is such a big relief.

 

By Robbie Cheadle