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!