Ankylosing Spondylitis and Me

Catherine Coundjeris

This poem was written back in 1997
when I was newly diagnosed with this disease
and struggling with the reality of it.

I want to leave my footprints in the sand,
But summer is so far away.
I want to splash in the surf,
But my heart is made of stone.

Harden not your heart
He told me,
And I listened once
Upon a time in pink tights and a black leotard,
Dancing with a spine that was normal.

Now you can see my future
As you have told others before me.
It´s routine and no need to fear
Semi amputation.

Deteriorating, fusing, and deforming.
These are words I read today.
Be careful I am made of glass.
You can see right through me.
X-rays line up to show me my illness.

I am made of glass,
Fracturing into pieces: Little words of despair,
Petrified wood scattered on the beaches.
The terror of an iron mask, and
A neck frozen, a bamboo spine.

I am supporting a glass psyche
To pour through and heat
Me into a molten lump of color.
Created out of obsidian and silicon

Blue and green and white for shaping
Into glass cathedrals stain-glass windows
Into the immovable center of the soul.