When the youth of my day's passed, I was bed-bound for the first time in my life for something I didn't understand.

10 years I said.
10 years of pain.
10 years I felt.
10 years I knew.

But never did I understand. A quick Google search would enlighten me. But only extensive research would confirm.

4 years later, a doctor would.

But it was too late because it had already taken what it took. Sciatica from me you have taken:

My ability to dance. Hip-hop, salsa, bachata, even sometimes classical.

You've taken from me my ability to stand. Hours, cutting meat, grinding food to paste, sauces, soups, and sometimes just creams.

You've taken from me my ability to walk, for days, for hours, for months. Sleep roads. Sleep in grass fields. Sleep where the sun finds you as it sets and rises.

Sciatica, you've given me 1, 2, 3, and 4 hernias. Precious as they are, painful as they can be, they come with medicine and no ability to heal or exercise for the pain that you bound to every disc in my back, down to my leg.

So, Sciatica, taken from you have: love and patience from a woman who never wanted a man who could not make love without the fear of pain in his side crippling him more than her.

But you've given one thing I am always grateful for: an excuse to call in sick. *dab*


© Seakay Margiadanae