Discharged

January 31st


Nurses, kind and nice;
The pink walker I depended on;
Shower time I was looking forward to;
A nurse call button at my disposal;
The travel toiletry set;
The bed I lay my weary, aching body;
The hospital room that welcomed visitors;
I hope I won't see you again, but thank you.


Friends came to help me to move out.


From the taxi window, I saw the world alive.
The society is a living creature.  
I wonder if there is a place for me.


Homecoming.
I couldn't walk on my own.  I realized
My muscles weakened significantly.


Later we went out for dinner
Regular meal after so long
I drank sake and forgot about my ailment.
Smiles of friends in full blossom.


Wheelchair, wheelchair
I am disabled.
How will I get used to you?


And the more difficult question is
How will I prepare to die.

Poem by Maria Franki

Edited and translated by J. Ujiie

© 2011

Stomach Endoscopy

January 26th


Day 9 in Hospital


Stomach Endoscopy
Thick liquid sent to the stomach
A shot in a muscle
My throat numb with an anesthetic.


"Lie down," a nurse said.
Here comes an endoscopy camera with eyes of a black snake.
I clutched the small hand of the nurse, scared.
Five minutes passed.
A ropable black snake in my stomach.
I can't take it anymore.  I can't breathe.
I thought I was going to die.


The black snake left.
Hyperventilated, I was wasted on the bed washed ashore.
Panting like a dog defeated by the heat of summer.
I yowled and gasped.
My breathing stopped.
I heard babble of voices, I heard somebody say "Open your eyes."
I couldn't open my eyes.
A dog defeated by the heat of summer just kept on panting.


Somebody shook me.
Somebody called my name at my ear.
My voice failed.  I can't answer.
Somebody called my name again and again.


Call an ambulance, I thought and realized I was already in a hospital.
And yet, nobody came to rescue me.


One hour passed.
I started coming back to me.
I was forced to move onto a wheelchair,
Which brought me back.
B1 exam room was just the same before, 
Physicians and nurses were working as if nothing happend.


Without me being conscious the world went on.
After I die, against all odds the chaotic world would keep going on.

Poem by Maria Franki

Edited and translated by J. Ujiie

© 2011

Electromyogram

January 21st

Day 4 in Hospital

With a needle inserted in my muscle, "Contract" and "Relax."

Over and over again.

On contracting and on relaxing, streaks of lighting

Ran up and down on the monitor

with thundering noise, just like lighting.

Are these the signals the muscles sending out?

Fervent and a life force in itself.

The pain was excruciating

One of the worst for medical examinations

I think.

Without an anesthetic, a needle is inserted deep in the musles

And then, they are forced to contract.

What a cruel examination

And what a cruel ailment which necessiates such a cruel examination.

The needle was inserted in my arms, in my back, and then in my neck.

Witch hunt of Salem I imagined on the exam table.

Poem by Maria Franki

Edited and translated by J. Ujiie

copyright 2011

Nerve Conduction Velocity Test, Magnetic Evoked Electromyography

January 21st


Day 4 in Hospital


Before the dreaded electromyogram
I had a nerve conduction velocity test and magnetic evoked electromyography.
Magnetic stimulation on the top of my head
Made my pinky, middle finger, thumb roll back
On its own.


Magnetic stimulation from the different direction made 
My leg to kick an imaginary soccer ball
On it's own.
I can't stop it.  Unpredictable.
It amazes me how the network of the body works.


Faster than super express train, faster than an apple falling from a tree.
The nerve singal travels so fast.  
I'm impressed, Mr. Neuron.
It is a match for the speed of falling in love.
It is a match for the magic of falling in love.


Then, A pulse of magnetic stimulation were applied to muscles
Muscles responded with twitches, dancing continuously
As if it were trying to prove it is alive.
I don't have to prove I am alive, because I AM alive for sure.
I thought on an exam table.

Poem by Maria Franki

Edited and translated by J. Ujiie

© 2011

Day 2, Day 3

After the spinal tap, Maria had cerebral blood flow test done.  She was suffering symptoms of  intracranial hypotension.  The day after, she had skeletal CT and Chest CT, while her physical condition worsened.  On day 3, she had respiratory function test.  


She couldn't have any visitors for several days.

Spinal Tap

January 19th


Day 2 in Hospital


Here comes spinal tap
On a square tray, sharp and silver needles
Gleam and Clatter.


Wait, wait a second for
Getting the breathing together.  No I can't.  No way.
I once saw on TV a child crying and screaming.
I want to cry.  Does it hurt less if I cry?


I felt a good looking doctor's fingers feeling my spine、
Palpating to identify the location.
Suddenly it came to a full stop.  
She must have decided the direction of the needle.
Injection is coming.


Anesthetic first.
A metallic sensation slowly crawls in.
White-knuckle it wasn't required.
Excruciating pain I heard, it wasn't.


Next, spinal fluid is going to be drawn
Get on to the real thing.
I felt something like a dental drill inserted into.
I can take more.


The good-looking doc said,
"It will be over soon."


I took it.
It wasn't so bad.
"I'm taking the needle out," she said.
My spinal fluid is out of my body.


Wonderful.
It was not so painful as I expected.
Great.


Then it occurred to me that
It was not like I was cured.
I hope the not so painful miracle needle would bring in a real miracle.


Thank you, Doctor.

Poem by Maria Franki

Edited and translated by J. Ujiie
© 2011

Swallowing Function Test

Day 2 in Hospital


To evaluate how chewed food is swallowed down
A camera was inserted in my throat.


A nozzle was inserted in my nostrils to spray anesthetic.
Even numbed, the lining of nose respond to the presence of foreign object
With an unpleasant sensation.


I admire the first person who had endoscopy.
Or the first animal who was experimented on.
I pray for many lives of animals.


I bore with the suffering thinking about animals suffered.


With the camera in place, a few drops of water were placed in my mouth.
"Swallow."
"Gulp."
"Swallowing seems to be intact."


How long will I be able to eat by mouth?
I asked myself and left the otolaryngology department.

By Maria Franki

Edited and translated by J. Ujiie
© 2011

Chest and Spinal X-Ray

Day 1 in Hospital

X-ray is a child's play I have had

Since in grade school.

I was so wrong.

The ailment has made it utterly difficult to position myself.

Without paraspinal and abdominal muscle strength,
It was next to impossible to stand straight and incline my head
And to stay still in freeze-frame.

I was sorry for the assisting nurse.
She had to hold me upright in the right position for X-Ray.

I struggled to bend and straight my body, only to turn into jello.

X-Raying jelly fish was not a child's play.

Then, I had my first hospital meal ever alone.

It caused my eyes to water.

I wonder if tear glands show in X-Ray.

Poem by Maria Franki

Edited and translated by J. Ujiie

©2011

January

It was December last year, when I heard Maria was suffering from something mysterious.  She had difficulty in walking long distance and couldn't climb up stairs. I heard she moved from the suburb to the downtown Tokyo to be close to her office.  I was expecting to see her at a get-together our mutual friends arranged when I visited Tokyo.  She couldn't make it.  Later when she told me in her e-mail that she might have ALS, I really hoped she didn't.  I was afraid to ask further.  


After being preliminarily diagnosed with ALS, she was admitted to a hospital in January for an in-depth work-up, where she was about to go through a battery of tests.


by J. Ujiie
©2011

My Name is Maria

Nice to meet you.
It was a heavy over-coat kind of afternoon.
I would like to write
What I see
What I hear
What I feel
One step at a time
On the wind.