HOW IRISH WHISKEY SAVED MY BRAIN (Maybe)

By Bill Frayer

 

Irish20WhiskeyAlone, getting my brain scanned,

In Guadalajara

The kindly radiologist told me

With sad eyes, “I think you have a tumor

In your brain.” And showed me a large shadow

On the MRI which looked, well, big.

I rode home in the cab

In the dark, alone,

Thinking over my life.

“How odd, that it should come

To this.” I pondered.

“Well,” I thought, as I entered my bright empty home

At midnight, “If I’m doomed,

I might as well enjoy an

Irish whiskey before bed. “So I sipped on a generous Jamison,

As I marveled at the kaleidoscopic hallucination

At the periphery of my right eye

And enjoyed the calm, surprised at myself.

“Tomorrow,” I admonished myself, “I’ll get the full version.”

As the whiskey fortified my spirit.

I slept soundly, knowing I’d deal

With any new reality

In the morning.

Good thing. The overnight study

Reversed the calamitous finding

And I was forced to face

That I had no tumor

And would likely live

To face more unknown risks.

No easy exit yet.

I think it was the whiskey.

I think I deserve another.

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