For I, As Don Quixote……
10/29/2010
I felt that all the Patheticers would want to know that Maude Curtis, one of our own, and my True Love for Life, was stricken with Pulmonary Hypertension. With God on our side, it was caught barely in the nick of time. She was given several choices; from an almost immediate demise to a highly detailed and complicated system of medical infusion to sustain and even give her a better quality of life. Tonight she lies in a hospital bed at Kansas University Medical Center, with more lines, monitors and alarms enveloping her, than one could imagine. I’ve been with her, since admittance, four days ago, except to go home, sleep, and let the puppies relieve themselves. Barring anything that Murphy or God’s will might throw in, I think she’s going to be OK, even though she’ll or we’ll be toting a lot of medical machines and equipment around with us forever and ever. But, my friends, it’s such a small price to pay, to see those blue eyes twinkle and shine, and hear her silently mime, “I Love You” during a quiet moment. For her, I pen these feeble lines:



For I, like Don Quixote,
Do clad on my old and rusted armor.
Again I don my ram shackled helm;
And with tired and aching arms,
I hoist my battered and scarred broadsword.
So garbed, I prepare to do battle
With the infirmities of life that
Should stand in my way,
That would deny my Dulcinea a chance
Of a revitalized and fulfilling existence.

I have given vigil over the her pallet,
Where in her fitful slumber,
She slowly regains her vivacity
For the present world.
I have continued this watch
With many silent prayers.
I have asked, diligently, that what
Has smitten her, would be removed
From her shoulders and be
Emplaced upon mine. So her burden
And struggles would be comforted.

Today. I see that my prayers
Have been heard, and albeit
Slow, their answers are coming to fruition.
For again I see the flicker of color,
And life glow spreading across
Her cheeks.
And I, as Don Quixote,
Will keep the evil and malevolence
of the world at bay,
Whilst I maintain my vigil,
Thus granting my darling Dulcinea
the opportunity, God willing, to come
Back to the world, with
Invigoration and aspiration.

And I, as Don Quixote,
Set and muse and envision
A healed and enlightened Dulcinea.
She, being lightly held upon my breast,
As we circle the court, in time
With the musicians that are playing
The melodies that we once shared,
So many life time’s ago.

For I, as Don Quixote,
Will nary look into the cursed mirror
That others have so craftily fashioned to
Incarcerate my image,
As they believe it to be:
An old, crippled, and wrinkled
Warrior, like unto Durer’s medieval woodcut.
Not near what I feel inside,
With my undying love for my Dulcinea.
For I retain the warrior’s creed of an ancient day,
To protect and serve valiantly with undying loyalty,
Those whom I love, honor, respect and trust.

For I, as Don Quixote,
Gaze again upon her face,
And I see the roseate of color begin
To seep back into her lips.
Her eyes slowly flutter
As an awakening sleeping beauty.
She focuses again on the multitude
Of lines, alarms and machines of technology
That has enveloped her,
But has brought her back from a
World of darkness.

I slowly brush my hand accross her cheek,
And I feel the delicate warmth where once
Resided greyness and tepidity.
Her eyes search for my face and she smiles.
She weakly reaches out and touches my cheek.
I am no longer the enfeebled and ancient
Man of the mirror.
Again I am her warrior, her crusader.
Again, I am her Don Quixote……

10/29/2010