The Empty Chair

I hear the stories

it’s hard not to

in stalls like horses

Hooked to machines

Poisoning the poison

That’s killing us.

The people with them

Sisters, mothers, adult kids

“Lovers…” (an elderly couple)

That one made me smile.

And a few who are alone.

With them is an empty chair,

Because they don’t have someone.

But I do. Mine are not gone.

They’re just not here.

I think it’s lonelier to be alone

When you have people

Who could be here

But choose not to be

Or who make it worse when they are

Than to be alone

Because of circumstances

Beyond anyone’s control.

Sometimes I’m okay with

The empty chair.

Published by Gladys D. Smith-Mangan

I’m a 47 year old mom to 3 kids and grandma to one, a military brat, a music lover, a widow, and an involuntarily retired attorney who got smacked with the most sarcastic and ridiculous disease on earth, completely changing the future I had worked so hard for, and the plans I had for myself and my family. I have a 26 year old stepdaughter who has my 8 year old granddaughter, along with my 21 year old daughter and the baby, my 12 year old, who I’m thankful has grown up just in the right times that my illness doesn’t put her in danger. My condition, Churg Strauss Syndrome (CSS), or Eosinophilic Granulomatosis with Polyangitis (EGPA), as it is currently called, is sarcastic and ironic, just like I am. It is an autoimmune vasculitis that causes inflammation, and one of the primary symptoms is an intolerance to nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory drugs (NSAID’s). And that irony and sarcasm just carries on throughout the entire journey. One thing it is not: boring. It is diagnosed in only one to two out of every million people, and was featured on the fifth episode of House MD, if that tells you anything about how rare it is. It is most evident for me in the way it made my asthma go from completely controlled to uncontrolled, no matter what we do. I’m currently on a low dose of chemo and a biologic in addition to prednisone, and trying to wean off. My previous life was being a family law attorney. I try to assuage my guilt about my daughter not seeing me as a professional working woman by volunteering as much as I can. People always tell me I should write more, so here we are. Maybe my escapades can make somebody else laugh, or make someone feel less alone if they are dealing with similar circumstances. If nothing else, it will be something for my kids to be able to read later in life to remember who I was. Until then, I plan to live the hell out of every single day I am given. And laugh as much as I can, when it won’t cause an asthma/coughing fit. I truly believe laughter is the best medicine. (When it doesn’t cause a deadly asthma attack.)

2 Comments

  1. Abigail Johnston says:
    August 23, 2021 at 8:15 pm

    I feel this SO MUCH! Those people diagnosed during the pandemic have such a different experience and I grieve for them. Having someone next to me during chemo was a necessity. Love and hugs to you!

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    1. Gladys D. Smith-Mangan says:
      August 23, 2021 at 8:20 pm

      Absolutely. I was in the hospital this weekend and they would only let one person back at a time. Everybody else had to stand outside. Such a different experience. I can’t imagine what it’s like if you come in with Covid symptoms. And I’m still terrified that I took a ride in the Covid Tram. 😳

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