Laying on hard bedding
With examination covers spread
With wrinkle creases
Zagging from left to right
Looking like the arm of a corpse.
Turn on my left side;
Black Styrofoam props me up.
Breath held as x-ray scans
Humming in contortion.
Gravity bears heavily on my weight;
My gut folds over like a landslide.
Radiologist speaks out
“You may breathe again.”
I am tickled at given this allowance
As though direction was ever needed.

A week passes like trickling water
Down a white spout leaning crooked;
Worn screws moved to one side.

X-ray report shows fusion is intact.
Lower spine deformities noted;
Possible shadow seen
Left upper quadrant of abdomen.
Need second scans made,
Doctor orders in covering all angles.
Walk-in appointment available.
Two types of x-rays performed;
One standing upright like a mannequin
The second lying again, back down
On white sheet overlapping stiff table.
No gowns necessary today.
Just unzip pants and let them drop
Around the thighs, which brings
Fond memories to arise in the mind.
Breath held, x-ray scanned onto film;
Doctor reads six separate scans.
Radiologist smiles big and confirms
Relayed message like a baton being passed;
Letting note, that the shadow was benign,
And sharing briefly the truth of it all
In merely showing an organ attention
Or an attractive camera hungry mass –
How my stomach, once again, got in the way!