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Reaction To Cold (poem)

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I'm writing from a personal experience with the public toilets in town. Sometimes these little havens can be a very cold place, particulary if you have Rayaud's and people know nothing of the condition. I'm not blaming individuals here, but it kind of makes you aware of the lack of understanding and awareness of the condition. I have sclero too, but it presents itself with no visible scars, unlike some conditions. I don't think it's pity we're after, just an understanding that being cold is not just about putting on extra layers or shivering, it's about the very real effects the cold can do to people who have this kind of reaction to it.


There's no fun living in a cold climate, no sir! no fun at all

For someone who has Raynaud's and heading for the fall

The summer sun never came this year, in fact, we've had none

And now the season's changing and the hope of respite gone


My fingers tell a story and I swear with each attack

I spend my hopeless day trying to get the critters back

My toes have gone in spasm, I'm marching on the spot

People think I'm barmy and they tend to stare a lot


Can't bear my useless digits as I fiddle in my purse

I didn't have a wee back home and now the feeling's worse

I really need a piddle and 20p's a joke

Why can't I be just like the other folk?

I finally grab a coin and place it in the slot

But I can't get my pants down, my finger's hurt a lot

Oh what a palaver just to have a pee

I nearly didn't make it and what a fool I'd be


I'm heading for the dryers, the air will ease my pain

And a snotty woman says "hurry or I'll need to go again"

On go my little black gloves, relief at least for now

I'll be glad to make it home, today sometime, somehow

I'm walking on blocks of ice my feet just won't relent

The socks I wear not warm enough, they're what my auntie sent


I'm such a funny woman I'm sure I'm not alone

There can't be just little old me out there on my own

My funny hat, my clothes and shoes, would suit an expedition

But I'm only going shopping, and that's become a mission

47, and like my gran, as to my car I go

Thank goodness for the heater, I'll have it on full blow


Now you think that I'm complaining and I guess that's how it goes

But how would you like frozen fingers and frozen little toes

How would you feel if you were like me, frozen to the core

Just going to the toilet can sometimes be a chore

And simple things we take for granted become an impossible task

To go outdoors without any pain is simply not too much to ask


The moral of this rhyme is just, be thankful it's not you

Or I'd switch off the hand dryer and leave you there wet through!


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