The Vicious Sickness

This narrative poem is about a deadly disease named FOP (Fibrodysplasia Ossificans Progressiva).

A woman screams and cries hard

But for me, it’s a little dark

Someone pushes and forces me out

And slowly, it gets brighter

I see a group of people

Who look at me as if I’m special

I look around and then look down

What’s that?

I see a foot with a bunch of toes

But there are two that don’t fit in

They curve in with a bone pointing out

Is that mine? Is this normal?

(Six years later)

It’s a sunny day and I’m shopping with mom

As I walk, I touch my shoulders and back in pain

Does this happen to other people as well?

Are other people in pain too?

Days go by and the pain gets worse

I finally tell mom the problem

“You need a doctor!” she says

And so we go to the doctor

A woman flashes a light in my eyes

Sticks something in my ears

Puts something against my chest

And listens to something carefully

She then asks me what’s wrong

And I tell her of the pain

She looks around my back and shoulders

“It looks like you need some blood tests,” she says

She takes me to the lab area

I take a seat and wait to be called

They call me in and tell me to have a seat

I do as I’m told

She tells me to make a fist

And she cleans my arm with a wipe

“Just a little poke she says”

And before I know it, she takes the needle back out of my skin

A few days pass and the phone in the kitchen rings

No one’s around so I go to answer

“Ms. Jackson”? says a voice

“This is her daughter,” I say

“I need to speak to Ms. Jackson,” says the voice

So I run upstairs and into mom’s room

I hand her the phone

“Yes?” “Yeah” “Oh” “Okay” “Thank You,” mom says

As she puts the phone down, I see water filling up in her eyes

“Mom, what’s wrong?”

She explains to me what the doctor said

“You need to go back”

“They’re finding something unusual”

I start to worry and mom tries to soothe me
She puts me to sleep and leaves

I try to sleep but just can’t

The next day we leave for the hospital

We get called in and follow the doctor

We walk into a room and have a seat

I carefully listen to everything she says

I walk out with countless thoughts in my head

“What did they call it”?

I try to think of the name of the condition  
“FOP!” “That’s what it is!”

As soon as I reach home, I run to the laptop

I look up “FOP”

Many results pop up

I look at the images and my mouth drops open

“IS THIS MY FUTURE?”

Tears roll down my face

I shut the laptop and run to my room

(Fourteen years later)

A woman walks up to me as I sit in my chair

The chair that had become my home 8 years ago

She looks at me with sad eyes

And sticks a spoon in my mouth and waits for me to chew

It takes a minute until she repeats it

(Fifteen years later)

Years and years have gone by

And each one had taken something away from me

One took the ability to get dressed

One took the ability to walk

One took the power to write

One took the power to laugh

But this year has taken more than the rest

This year has taken my ability to smile

It has taken my ability to talk

It has taken my ability to eat

And ultimately, it has taken my ability to live