Thelma N. Shutters

THREE WEEKS OF HELL

Tom had been sick several days
Decided he should go to the VA
A hospital for vets or service men
A place on which many depend
Here he had always put his trust
Whenever a doctor was a must

He caught pneumonia every year
So thinking nothing could he fear
He walked in the hospital doors
Passed right out on their floor
Upon a stretcher he was placed
Then in to surgery quickly raced

Exploratory surgery they all said
By their best surgeons it was led
“There’s nothing that we can find”
They said to us to ease our minds
When he first awoke all was well
But the next day his kidneys failed

Soon we were all called to his side
Told “There’s chance he might die”
“He has pneumonia” they would say
We heard this for weeks everyday
All his medication his body rejected
We found out he had been infected

As were many veterans in this place
Rashes all over their body and face
He contracted sepsis we had heard
Not many with this have been cured
His skin broke open, water poured
On his body were such awful sores

As Tom’s small body began to swell
The truth to us they all refused to tell
A nurse whispered to my brothers
“He has symptoms like many others
These brown splotches upon his skin
I’ve seen many times on service men”

“This is Agent Orange” then she said
Standing close to our brothers bed
We all took turns staying by his side
Until that awful night our brother died
As he walked in there that fateful day
He had no idea of the price he’d pay

One day more of this story I will write
Of my government’s deception and lies
A story for my own sanity I must tell
My brother’s last Three Weeks Of Hell

Author’s Note: Dedicated to Thomas E. Schlup – This is only part of this story