Kate (star382000) wrote in fainters_unite,


I wrote this poem yesterday and wanted to share it, and was wondering what other's with POTS thought of it. Just some background info on it. I'm 17. I just wrote this from an idea I had. The first lines come from an image I have been fixated with since I knew a friend was going to write an article about a condition I have known as POTS. The image was that common one of me standing in front of the elevator at my school with my purple backpack waiting for the doors to open so I could ride up, in place of taking the school stairs which I cannot do. I am hoping for this to be published as a part of the article to help get across not just awareness, but also an idea of what life is like with POTS. The idea of the purple backpack standing for something comes from, well the fact that I have one and it does stand for something. It is on wheels becaues I cannot carry books, they are too heavy for me. I have trouble walking to begin with, and get worn out easily.

I know that the rhyme scheme is messed-up and that the pattern changes, but I just went with the flow and wrote what came to me :-)

The Reason For My Purple Backpack

You see her from time to time
Waiting at the elevator door
Glaring at the purple bag
And for a brief moment wonder what for
Well that girl is me you see
And I have something that's hard to explain
It's called Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome
And causes a lot of inner pain
It takes away my energy
And causes me to almost faint
It makes my heart work too hard
And induces physical restraint
There are lots of things I cannot do
Like many things you take for granted
I can't run or just simply wake up
I can't take the stairs or dance
If I stand too long I have to sit
And the life I knew was stolen from me
With this handicap I don't know what to do
Or even who I am anymore
But one thing I know is true
I'm still the same as you
I have drama with friends
And parents galore
I have dreams and expectations
And hope for more
More to life and that never-ending search to find yourself
But with POTS that all just takes a back shelf
So before you snicker and you laugh
Know it could just as easily be you
Who has to drag a purple backpack
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