Daily Prompt: Frantic

Because of my near tragic antic

As I looked back I started to panic

Thinking more, tried not to be frantic

But it’s over now, so all is semantics.

I was sweeping the floor

A tiresome chore

When leaning too far

Set my wheelchair ajar.

Suddenly finding my butt in midair

Dropped the utensils and grabbed for the chair

Dust in the pan started to fly

Broom handle barely missed my eye

But saved myself from an accident

Legs started shaking in repent.

As I sat back and started to ponder

I could have been hurt, and wondered

How stupid to not feel I was slipping

Chores are no reason for a mind to be tripping

I just leaned too far, won’t do it again

Of course I probably will, is it my zen?

Reminded me of a similar time

When my safety was not on my mind

Resulted in an overturn flip

Ended up with a hospital trip.

Hospitals, oh I could write a book

They place you in a little nook

Tubes and lines up to you they hook

Forget about how horrid you look

Of course they seem to mean well

Handsome doctors are quite swell

Privacy is another issue

If in the restroom you need tissue

And then there’s the worst I dread

The devil-made hospital bed!

Plastic coated mattress from hell

Unusual humps, with uncomfortable swells

And don’t forget those monitor beeps

Going off when you’re trying to sleep

I finally learned how to fix it myself

Bed fixed so can’t reach anything on the shelf

Constant blood draws, tubes here and there

And the opened clothing they make you wear

Guess you surmise by this report

Not going back, I’d rather be morte!