By Natasha Khetan
When I felt my first pang of pain at ten years old,
I did not know
That pain would forever be my foe.
My road to acceptance
Was long and treacherous.
But I wouldn’t give it up for anything,
As what it has taught me is glorious.
In the quiet space within my mind,
I confront the demon that I find.
Chronic pain, an uninvited guest,
Prompts a dialogue, an emotional quest.
In denial, I croak faintly,
“I will not be shackled by this constant pain, you see.”
A fragile hope, a fleeting plea,
Yet pain persists, a reality I now must believe.
My anger comes to a boil, a tempest’s roar,
“Why must you haunt me, this constant sore?”
Frustration burrows deep within me.
In the second stage, I remain stagnant until year three.
Bargaining begins where anger left off,
A desperate plea, I beg in a voice quite soft:
“If you subside, I’ll change my ways in whichever way you please,
Just grant me peace to these endless days of disease.”
Depression follows, a heavy cloak.
In the fourth stage, I spoke,
“I’m overburdened by this unyielding strife,
Filled with the sorrow of a
pain.
filled.
life.”
Yet, within the shadows of my soul, a subtle guide,
Acceptance, whispers–a tender tide.
In the final stage, I find
A quiet peace within pain’s binds.
Acceptance blooms, like a gentle flower,
“I embrace you now, and take back the power!
I refuse to stay miserable; life goes by at a glance,
Together, we’ll find a tender balance.”
Through denial, anger, and bargaining plea,
In the depths of depression, I find the key.
Acceptance, a journey, an internal dance,
I am choosing to embrace my chronic circumstance.
In hopes of helping others who toil similarly to me,
I share my story一to be the difference I hope to see.
Later on in her career,
The provider comes to see,
A patient…
Just like she.
She comes to see her condition as a boon,
Realizing a sixth stage, one beyond the known,
For this journey has shaped her in ways profound,
A more empathetic provider, her heart unbound.
She’s deciphered what words cannot say—
Forged by pain, the lessons it wrought,
Born from those who guided her,
And through her care, she gives back what she once sought.
Natasha’s Note:
I was inspired to write a poem based on my own experience with chronic pain. This is my first time writing a poem, and it came with many unexpected challenges—it is very different from writing prose! However, in a way, it was also freeing. I was no longer constrained by what I thought literature should look like, and I was able to toss words onto the page based on what felt right to express my story.
The poem outlines the traditional five stages of grief that I experienced: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance, with an added sixth step at the end. To me, this final step goes beyond acceptance; it focuses on valuing my disability as an integral part of my identity and recognizing that, in some ways, it has positively contributed to my life. As Dr. Brenda Brueggemann, my Disability in American Literature professor, once told me, “Disability often never truly ‘cures’ or ‘goes away,’ but leaves a residue—a residue that can hold beauty and value.” This made me think about the beauty of being a disabled person pursuing a career in healthcare and the unique insight into medicine and passion for helping others that my disability has ultimately gifted me. Had I not ever been disabled and dealing with chronic pain, I feel that I would be lost. Without purpose. I felt it was time to recognize some of the positive aspects of my disability, and I believe that the conclusion of this poem honors that realization.
I hope you enjoyed reading!
Disability & Access Collective 