I have been a patient my entire life. From my first breath to my last surgery, my body has taught me things I never wanted to learn. About pain. About waiting. About the strange loneliness of a hospital room at three in the morning. About what it feels like to be embarrassed by your own body in front of strangers.

For 25 years I also worked in the medical field. As a Certified Nurse Assistant and someone with a degree in Human Services, I have seen both sides of the gurney. I have been the one holding the bedpan and the one needing it. I have been the helper and the one who desperately needed help.

Writing saved me as a child, and it saves me still. Living in Alaska under the Northern Lights, I finally understand something important. My journey was never just mine. Every surgery, every code brown, every moment of wanting to disappear into the hospital sheets, it was all leading somewhere. It was all becoming something I could offer to someone else.

These poems come from real life. From the good days and the blowout days. From the moments I wanted to give up and the moments something made me laugh instead.

If you are here because you or someone you love is walking through medical chaos, I want you to know something. You are not alone. You are not too much. You are not the only one who feels embarrassed by what your body does.

And another day really is worth fighting for. I promise.