This new section of our website will be
dedicated to poems written by RSD patients and their families. So if you have a
poem that you would like to share with everyone to read, please e-mail your poem
to Utopia33@prodigy.net and I will
post it for you.
This poem was written by Mrs. Jackie
McCombs. She had written it in the memory of her husband Henry who suffered from
RSD? What does it mean?
It causes so much pain I would like to scream.
You wake in the morning and all the day thru.
Itís constant, constant pain and nothing you can do.
In later stagesÖthey say there is no cure.
We Pray they find one. Thatís for
Itís hard to deal with all that goes on.
Being in pain from dusk Ďtil dawn.
Anger, depression, mood swings, I could go on and on.
Then some doctors think. Itís all a Con.
Drugs, drugs and more drugs Öyou must take.
Starting from the moment, we awake. No one really
understands what we have.
Too bad thereís not a magic salve.
So to all of you, who know how I feel, The ones who KNOW
the Pain is real.
Weíll stick together through thick and thin.
Hopefully someday in the end we will win.
Guess we just have to wait and see and pray they find a
CURE for YOU and ME!
Itís not in our heads. The Pain is there.
Please Doc, show consideration, show YOU care.
Until thereís a cure, we all must cope.
So DOCTORSÖ.PLEASE LISTEN TO US, IT'S
NOT FOR THE DOPE!!!!!
I hope you who read this know that I will keep you in my
prayers. My Husband was a wonderful man who passed away Sept 15th
2001 from bladder cancer. I wrote this after visiting a doctor who acted like
his pain was imaginary, I was so angry that I just put what I felt on paper.
This is in Memory of Henry McCombs. My wonderful husband who was the greatest
thing that ever happened to me. We have 3 sons who have also suffered because of
this horrible disease. But they have all stood behind me and have stepped in to
help their Mom. Take care all . GOD BLESS YOU.
If you would care to write to me please do. Please just put RSD in the
I WOULD REALLY LIKE TO GIVE THANKS TO ERIC FOR THE WORK HE DOES AND FOR
THE OPPORTUNITY TO HIM TO SHARE MY POEM ON HIS WEB SITE. THANK YOU ERIC. MAY GOD
BLESS YOU AND KEEP YOU WELL!
This poem was written by Heather
Quinn. Heather is an RSD Patient.
Iíve cut my losses and the ties;
for this is the end of those of you that donít understand.
This pain and heartache that itís given to me is the path to the rest of my
There is nothing left to say or do, but take the next step.
Donít talk to me, call me or look my way.
Iím as invisible to you as you are to me everyday.
As the world turns, I suffer.
Suffering equals my darkness and despair.
No ending and no beginning.
There I am stuck in the middle.
Youíll never see my pain.
Youíll never see my suffering.
I feel like Iím dying.
I feel like there is no reason to breathe.
There is no reason to love you.
There is no reason to think of you.
There is no reason to act or react.
Why for all that brings is heartache.
The world continues to turn as I suffer in my darkness and despair.
I see no ending, no light, but a new beginning.
Iím in the middle.
Sadness, anger, betrayal, loneliness and emptiness are how I feel.
Pain, hurt and sorrow is how I deal.
Youíll never see my pain and suffering.
All dreams, plans and hopes are gone in the blink of an eye.
Now that Iím alone, youíll never see me cry.
Iím hurting so much and deep that I cannot sleep.
Lying there in bed, gazing into the air, wondering will I ever heal?
Free me, please free me from this pain.
Free me to know that I will never hurt again.
Free me to be myself and never lose site of that.
Me, me, and me, thatís all I want to see.
No one else matters to me, accept those that understand my disease.
To accomplish this, Iím forced to keep my heart under lock and key.
If you like you to contact Heather the
author of this poem you can e-mail her at:
This poem was written by T.L. Tobac.
T.L. is an RSD Patient.
ROLLER COASTER - RSD
Oh twisted roller coaster
I have been propelled
to live upon
destined to this
not of my own volition
no fun ride
this roller coaster RSD
attacking at will
deceiving my psyche
though drug induced
recovery may dwell upon the horizon
and that one day
we will stop at the station
where I will depart
to grab my shiny prize...
to the crest
the sound tortures my brain
as it abandons me
on the opposite side
to another day of pain
Destined to remain
to this wicked ride
moments of peace
of it's clutches
come at any time
and just as quickly fade
to be replaced
by searing pain
and flashes of insane heat
and yet it starts again
could it be at last?
this time on the
up side of the
Roller Coaster RSD
drugs are working
just for today
I anticipate a visit with
my former self
(the one who doesn't ride the coaster)
hope wells up within
this is it (excitedly)
could healing come at last?
Does the shiny prize (remission)
at last arrive into
dash it all to hell
the chugging chain begins
back at the wretched drop point
for that fleeting moment
I thought I held the prize
but alas my palm lay empty
for this ride RSD never ends
hope ever remaining
some shiny dangling object
whizzing by it with each lap
well out of reach
passing it over and over
with each twist and spiral
of the Roller Coaster
if this be your will
that I am destined to ride
I know you will be at my side
and one day I pray
You will take me to the station.
This poem was written by
Darlene is an RSD Patient.
Who Am I
You canít see me, you canít hear me. I'm the one inside of you, making
you go crazy. All the doctors you have seen, they still don't know me, that's
funny to me. And itís been over 100 years. And they still canít find me, those
tests they take and pictures, there just wasting there time. I told you before
they wonít find me no matter how hard they try. Indeed I'm the one that makes
you hurt all day long. I am the one responsible for your terrible burning pain.
I love burning you with my flames, keep complaining no one hears you, no one
cares. They canít see me they cant feel me. I'm the only one who knows what
youíre feeling because your body belongs to me now, and I have the power to make
your pain spread. So don't try to stop me, because you no what they will say,
itís all in your head and how many pain meds have you taken today. Wow! There
still saying that now, thatís insane. I will leave you with nothing, no family
and friends. I will keep torturing each and ever day till the bitter end because
people canít see your pain and that makes my day. Iím going to take my flames
and burn you in the worse possible way, I enjoy those shooting pains I give you
threw out the day. HA- HA don't you wish you were dead, because that's my
intent. If your doctor keeps giving you those meds itís going to affect you and
mess with your head. That's ok heís doing my job, the more suffering you have
makes me want to stay. Iím not leaving so stop praying; wipe your tears this
nightmare is just beginning. Yes your really are a wake, I find that quite funny
you thought it was a dream, It sucks to be you since no one understands. So do
me a favor and do yourself in. Ok, I will tell you who and what I am. My name is
called RSD isn't that a nice name. It stands for Rapid Spreading
tell that to all the morons you see. And maybe one day they will try and stop
me. Bye the way would you please stop changing my name.
If you like you to contact Darlene the
author of this poem you can e-mail her at:
This poem was written by Cynthia Ward.
Cynthia is an RSD Patient.
Iím Not Like You
© 2000 ģ By: Cynthia E. Ward
Iím not like
you Ė you see;
I have a
My days are
precious and few;
If only I
could do the things I used to do!
Iím enthusiastic and optimistic my body is in constant pain;
strive to find the best in me only fond memories remain.
day is a struggle
I donít want
to be classified as a casualty or a statistic
think of myself as a survivor with a name.
out there is a person like me-
Who is in
constant pain or feels the same.
similar to me, but as of yet I donít know your name.
have a disability Ė I still have responsibilities.
different I have needs just like you,
And I would
like the opportunity to do the things you do.
Opportunities like being able to work and enjoy my leisure time;
though I strive for excellence getting there is very hard.
RSD is challenging everyday
So this is
why I think the public
listen to what I have to say.
permanent damage to muscles bones and nerves;
drastically changes our lives.
special people who have had to endure unnecessary pain and strife.
There are no
definite cures for RSD so we suffer everyday;
doctors will understand and find a way
To end the
pain so the best part of our lives will return;
educate yourselves so you can learn.
learn that everyone is valuable in their own special way;
listen to what I have to say!
I am a
person with a heart, mind, and soul,
If you give
me the opportunity- I can be the best that I can be.
be many times which are very trying,
times when you feel like crying-
So itís best
to concentrate on the things you can do instead of the things you canít
unable to do, because this will get you through.
Iím not like
you- you see, because Iím just me!
have a debilitating disorder called Reflex-Sympathetic-Dystrophy.
want the opportunities and privileges to do the things you do.
look similar Ė
Iím not like
This poem was written by
Christina is an RSD Patient.
Refuse to Sanction
back the cries.
To form a
and you pray.
totality of pain
slave to his master,
at its will.
mustnít be still.
people are near
better act right.
you are normal
least for awhile