Extended Stay
October 1, 2009 by J.C. Hewitt · 3 Comments
As I promised last month, today is the day I am releasing my first eBook of poetry, Extended Stay.
Extended Stay is divided into two parts. The first part, Recovery, is a set of poems I wrote about my mother’s long hospitalization and recovery from a surgery that had severe and unexpected complications. The second part, Road, is about my life as a long-distance commuter working at various tech companies over the past few years. I hope you enjoy the book.
Please note that this is an initial release. I would love it if anyone kindly pointed out any misspellings or other problems and gave me their feedback. I am offering my eBook free of charge for the first 100 people who download. All I ask in return is that you take the time to read it and leave a comment here.
Here is a sample poem to whet your appetite:
Condition Signals
I am staring at the parking lot as it empties
Hardworking party members head off to do
Charity work for the people of Kuala Lumpur
Or maybe it is time for half-priced appetizers at Applebee’s
I have many action items to make good on
Alone with the stragglers in their remote cubicles
Before I can search out my own franchise
Each hour dissolves professional into personal
Phone calls and emails and windows
There is a pressure behind my face that could be sinuses
Or disconnection
Or if I have the right fantasy
Could be the eventual manifestation
Of my long-awaited super powers
I push away from the window and head back
To the computer
The cubicle
And the comfort of my action items

Poem: Complications and Opportunities
April 21, 2009 by J.C. Hewitt · 2 Comments
Complications and Opportunities
My mother fell and bruised her ribs
One more in a line of setbacks
We have learned to absorb
Some time had passed between bad news
Enough for us to think we were
Almost back to normal
Steps from bed to walker to cane
Steady over the summer months
But now each breath a task
Each breath a reminder that she
Has so much ground left to regain
Before we can relax
She is knitting potholders now
Working on her fine motor skills
But still mostly sleeping
She does not eat enough and she
Gets lightheaded dizzy fuzzy
Which is what made her fall
Nearly a year since this began
Such a long list of things gone wrong
So much to overcome
We get closer to fine and we
Look at how much we have been through
How much we have to lose
We still have time to give to this
We can still reach recovery
But slow so slow it goes
– J.C. Hewitt
Poem: The One More Thing
April 6, 2009 by J.C. Hewitt · 4 Comments
The One More Thing
My mother’s heart could not
Would not
Beat the way it was supposed to
They had shocked her several times
More than a couple times
Trying to get things back in order
But it was not going to happen
So they put her in a coma
They shut just about everything down
That wasn’t shutting down already
To let her body get back into sinus rhythm
The natural moment
When the body and the heart
Are working together properly
And everything is in order
Because they couldn’t
Wouldn’t
Put the paddles to her again
She was already starting to gain weight
With her kidneys shut down she was maybe
Twenty pounds heavier at that point
Bloated
Unhappy looking
Even in sleep
They were worried about the fluid
And we all got together
To pray for her to pee
Because peeing would save her life
We were at the one more thing point
If one more thing went wrong
There was no return
No recovery to be had
We hovered there
Waiting for the one more thing
Poem: The Shifts
March 30, 2009 by J.C. Hewitt · 6 Comments
The Shifts
The rule was that we would not leave her alone
Someone would always be there
My mother would not
Could not
Die unless she was alone
So we took shifts
Sitting with her sleeping shell
Listening to the respirator
Inflate
And deflate her chest
Listening to the alarms
When her breath
Or her heart
Failed to make the next cycle
At the right time
The room was alternately too hot or too cold
And my intense
Driving
Fear of hospitals
Left me with a persistent dread
I could not have escaped
Even in better circumstances
As the days carried forward
And we worked harder and harder
To fit our lives
Back into the schedule
Most of the shifts
Were spent alone
I got to know the nurses and the techs
And the Spanish only cleaning woman
Who communicated hope
As best she could
The shifts would continue
For days
Then weeks
Then months
As we kept in motion
To keep our word
Poem: Minor Delusions
March 26, 2009 by J.C. Hewitt · 3 Comments
Minor Delusions
At some point
My mother started to confuse
The hospital with home
Thinking the view from the window
Was the backyard
And not the parking lot
I would gently remind her
That we were in the hospital
And the nurses were not in the next room
But patrolling an overcrowded hall
Which is why they took so long
To respond to her pressing
The button
Sometimes the Xanax
And other drugs fogged her mind
And she would forget who people were
But only in conversation
Not in person
She always knew who I was
And that was somewhat comforting
– J.C. Hewitt
Poem: The Second Hospital
March 24, 2009 by J.C. Hewitt · 5 Comments
The Second Hospital
The first hospital was inadequate
Was ill-equipped
Was too specialized
And so we had to move
To the big mega-hospitalopolis
Designed to care for any
And every problem
With equal disdain
For each and every person
Who walked through its doors
The new hospital was not designed for family
Or for visitors
Or for anything besides
Treating the body
The spirit is an issue
Of little or no concern
Outside of the chapel
We were not put off that easily though
It is amazing what you can get
If you just never stop pushing
And so we persevered
In hard plastic chairs
Continuing our shifts
Onward and onward
We wore gloves and gowns
And sat behind sliding glass doors
We fought security
And a general feeling
That we were just in the way
I was always making up for lost time
Time spent in Phoenix
In hotel rooms
In cubicles
Removed from the action
My sisters
On town
Took the nights
And my father took the days
And I added what I could
My mother would improve
Then fall back
At first we hoped to have her home by Christmas
But the days just kept passing
They were supposed to get her off the respirator
They were supposed to get her physical therapy
They were supposed to offer the care
She couldn’t get before
But all of that was as illusory as it gets
At best they were able
To fight of the MRSA
And keep up her dialysis
But as December moved into January
The only thing helping her
Was time
Her body started the slow path towards correction
Fevers came and went
Chills came and went
Some days she was yellow
When her liver couldn’t keep up
Some days she was bloated
Because she couldn’t digest the food
All progress was incremental
But we progressed toward something
Toward some point of recovery
She began to talk
Forcing her voice around the trachea
And that was almost more frustrating
Because we couldn’t understand her
And she so wanted to be heard
– J.C. Hewitt
Poem: Snow Together
March 23, 2009 by J.C. Hewitt · 1 Comment
Snow Together
One night at the hospital
I watched it snow
Which in Tucson is a next to never event
I felt bad because my mother
Couldn’t see it through the reflection
Of the lights in the room
And I had to describe it for her
Falling down and collecting on the windshield
Of my
And every other
Car out there
Light snowfall
Are natural attractions
But in the room it only made
My mother grow restless
And I eventually returned to the television
Because that was something she could see
And feel somewhat comforted by
– J.C. Hewitt
Poem: Awake and Paralyzed
March 20, 2009 by J.C. Hewitt · 1 Comment
Awake and Paralyzed
Her brain awoke in advance of her body
I don’t know how long she was awake
Before she could open he eyes
But that was the extent of it
For quite a wile
That and a small curl of the toes
A nervous twitch for the feet
She was trapped
Awake in her unmoving body
She stared at me and I
Stared back
Smiled as much as I could
And held her hand
I sat with my head on the bed
Feeling a kind of relief
Filled with the tension of knowing
That the first steps
Of a very hard climb
Had been taken
I tried to think of things to say
Conversations to have
Without her talking
I gave the sports report
And read a little from the paper
But in the end I had
Very little to say
And felt the frustration
Of ineffectiveness
I would ask what she thought about
During those times
But I don’t want to touch that feeling
That fear
Too deeply
Whatever she felt at the time
Is probably long gone now
As the brain washes away
What it cannot handle
– J.C. Hewitt
Poem: Friday Night in ICU
March 18, 2009 by J.C. Hewitt · 3 Comments
Friday Night in ICU
The scabs in the corner of her mouth
Are staring to heal
Underneath the thick white topical cream
When her eyes focus she sees me
I smile and she raises her eyebrows
The trachea tube in her neck
Moves slightly with each breath
And condensation collects inside
Her heart rate hovers at seventy
Her blood pressure is high but steady
No major peaks or valleys tonight
Her kidneys are back at work now
I watch her Foley bag fill
Calculating the difference over the past hour
She is fifty pounds of water lighter
Than just two weeks ago
When she looked like a pale Samoan
Her eyes too swollen for the nurse to force open
Now she looks something like herself
As she stares at me staring at her
Until she tires and closes her eyes
Sleeping for the rest of my time here
I keep watching
– J.C. Hewitt
Poem: Nurse Sunshine and the Drama Queen
March 17, 2009 by J.C. Hewitt · 1 Comment
Nurse Sunshine and the Drama Queen
We called her Nurse Sunshine
She had all the skills
And the thorough immersion
In her job
That you look for
But she didn’t have a single
Positive
Thing to say
Between her and my idiot
Drama queen
Busybody
Cousin
My own heart was starting to pound
False optimism
Is all I needed
And they weren’t even willing to give that
As my mother’s weight rose
With each passing hour
Nurse Sunshine panicked
Over every bad sign
And took pains to remind us
That brain damage was
Most definitely
A possibility
My cousin hung on every word
Repeated it roundly
Flush with the energy of a crisis
She was only tangentially involved in
Keeping up her constant
Dissonant conversation
Wanting me to feed her gossipy hysteria
I have never
Ever
Wanted to strangle a person
As much as I did that day
As we tried to cling
To every positive sign
The two of them tag teamed
To remind us
That she had no chance
Or at least
Practically no chance



