Putting Off Seeing the Physician

Daily Prompt: Take Care


When you’re unwell, do you allow others to take care of you, or do you prefer to soldier on alone? What does it take for you to ask for help?


English: Herbal Medicine Man

English: Herbal Medicine Man (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The doctor asked why do you wait
until you’re almost well before you come my way
It’s a family habit I said to him
Grandpa was an old time medicine man
My mom was much like him with remedies galore
she knew a cure for everything from old time country lore
In a time long past when doctors were scarce
folks would call on Grandpa for help with their care
Never anything invasive, just natural cures and herbs
Such knowledge was passed down to him, thus he learned
My problem is I only know enough to help endure my pain
To get well I always have to go and see my doctor yet again


-Donald R. Sansbury, 2013



“Let’s Get Physical”

Daily Prompt: Red Pill, Blue Pill

If you could get all the nutrition you needed in a day with a pill — no worrying about what to eat, no food preparation — would you do it?

Photographers, artists, poets: show us NOURISHMENT.

The updated USDA food pyramid, published in 20...

The updated USDA food pyramid, published in 2005, is a general nutrition guide for recommended food consumption for humans. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

“Eat this, don’t eat that,”
You know, “You are what you eat.”
“Cut the salt, trim the fat,”
We hear the food police.

“Will you ever use self-control?”
Pipes the young skinny one.
“Give me a break, my metabolism has slowed,”
Sings the same soul thirty years on.

A different expert every few years,
opinions seem to ever change;
Exercise, diets, rising health fears,
The battle remains the same.

“It’s more about how much.”
–“No, it’s more about the what.”
“It’s exercise, you lazy butt,
If you’d only do some squats.”

On and on the merry-go-round
keeps turning through the ages;
There was a time folks wanted more pounds,
But now, “Thin is in,” according to the sages.

-Donald R. Sansbury, 2013

~ During the first two decades of my life I was underweight. I was taken to physicians, subjected to embarrassing tests, made to feel inferior, taunted and ridiculed. Some things said to me, supposedly as a joke, were too vulgar to repeat verbally or in print. As middle age and the ‘wonder’ years creep on I fight the same kind of ‘imbecility’ because now I am ‘too’ heavy. I’ve decided that I’ll let ‘a problem with my weight’ be someone else’s problem. Me? I’ve learned how to “DO COOL” either way!

The Elevator Bear Hug

Daily Prompt: Elevator

Non-fiction writers: You’re stuck in an elevator with a person from your past. Write this scene.

English: 'FREE HUGS' in a marketplace, Chile

English: ‘FREE HUGS’ in a marketplace, Chile (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The hospital elevator doors opened and Mrs. Brown, my wife and I entered quickly barely noticing the middle-aged lady standing in the right corner. Occupying myself with pressing the right floor number, I was startled by an outburst from the stranger sharing the elevator with us.

“Aayyhh…” the lady exclaimed loudly rushing toward me with arms waving excitedly. I quickly recognized her from years long past just before she had me wrapped in a bear hug and began dancing up and down with me firmly in her passionate grip. Mrs. Brown, who was the mother-in-law of a deacon at the church where I was then pastor, looked on with disbelief and bewilderment. She had known me for a few years as a chaste man and minister and had never seen me in the embrace of another woman. Mrs. Brown’s eyes told of her further bewilderment as she glanced from me to my wife who, well known as “a protector of the family nest,” stood calmly by and smiled at the affectionate display of emotions.

My wife had also recognized the lady who was by that time hugging, dancing, squeezing and kissing me on the cheeks as tears rolled down her cheeks. The “stranger” from the corner of the elevator was no stranger at all. Ruby was the widow of a good friend named Buck who had passed away due to cancer years before that day. I had moved my family to another city to pastor another congregation a few months after Buck’s death. Ruby had since remarried and relocated to a town near the hospital we were in. We had not seen each other for years since the dark days of Buck’s illness and death.

Ruby had no extended family to support her during the long illness and death of her husband, Buck. My family and I became as family to Ruby during that time in addition to our normal pastoral duties. For two long, troublesome years following his diagnosis, I was not only their pastor, but also a helpful friend to Buck, Ruby and their son, Randy. A neighbor and I had stayed up night after night with Ruby and Randy during the final ‘death watch’ so that they would not be alone when Buck passed away. No jealousy was due in that elevator setting years later as an old friend was able to finally express her thankfulness for the love shown to her, her son and dying husband during their dark hours.

Mrs. Brown, my wife and I had a good laugh later upon recalling her bewilderment during my ‘surprise encounter’ in the elevator.

-Donald R. Sansbury, 2013

VeRtIgO! (in cinquain)

El professor vertigo

El professor vertigo (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Like carousel
All is spinning around
Let me find a grip and hold on

Blink now
Close your eyes, yes
Calmly take a deep breath
Equilibrium needs time to

Head up
Rise slowly
Walk with cautious steps
Find your meds and take them, sit down
Rest now

Close eyes
Breath slowly, now
Your motion sickness pill
Will work in due time, maybe-
Oh, man!

-Donald R. Sansbury, 2013

~Do you suffer during allergy season or on trips? How do you cope?

In Memory of My Dad

PawPaw93The portrait of that precious weathered brow
hangs gracefully in the gallery of my heart;
How those loving eyes though dimmed by age
Still can charm me as I gaze therein, and
soothe me as sweet memories start to roll.
Oh, the beauty of that aged hand half raised
As ’twas oft when he’d tell me some old humorous tale
With names like Spurgeon, Roscoe, J. D., Slim and Dan.
That hint of smile I see there harks me back to how
he’d start a joke, and have to pause and shake his head,
laughing by himself until he’d calm enough
to tell the punch line for the rest.
His portrait hangs in quite a featured spot
next to The Lady of my heart who risked her life
to give birth unto mine. I view not one but see the twain
when should I look within my reins to take this stroll so sweet.
I see his mouth and hear his speech when he recounted
sorrowfully how he had not the father always been
that he had come to be to me. I see those ears and hear
laments that I one day poured full within
of how I had so failed to be the man he’d hoped of me.
I see his crown silvered and grey
bespeaking wisdom with his age, and I
remember how he freely forgave me all my faults.
Oh, Dear Dad, I miss you so, so on this woeful day I go
back to those days when we talked joyfully again.
In this simple tribute let me say thanks
for being my father, my mentor, my North Star,
and most of all for being my best friend.

-Donald R. Sansbury, 2013

Oh, Cursed Pollen (a Triolet)

A European Honey Bee (Apis mellifera) flying b...

A European Honey Bee (Apis mellifera) flying back to its hive carrying pollen in a pollen basket. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Yellow like gold, but spreading like mold,
And it’s out there just waiting for me;
Important I know, honey and flowers to grow,
some yellow like gold; but, man, it’s spreading like mold!
Causes red eyes that burn, running nose to blow,
— long pauses when I have to sneeze;
Yellow like gold, but spreading like mold,
And it’s out there just waiting for me.

Donald R. Sansbury, 2013

He Bore Our Grief

Great suffering Jesus!

Great suffering Jesus! (Photo credit: quinet)

He bore our grief, so why should we?
He Who formed our feeble frames
made also relief
Knowing we’d suffer pain.
He took on Himself our plight and cares
that we might cast them off,
And having cast them onto Him,
We then take up His cause.
He bore our grief, so now we His
for sinners still so lost;
As He did not rest, then neither we,
‘Til done the work of the cross.

-Donald R. Sansbury