I didn’t expect to be heard, for him to sit across from me and create space for all my woes— the back, the knees, the hips, the medications, the liver problems, the dreams of being a dancer again someday if only the pain would permit… nor expect him to examine my movement, strength, balance, coordination, and flexibility.
He was thorough and kind, asked about my living situation, support system, emotional health, career, hobbies, and activity levels.
He made suggestions, asked my opinion, answered my questions, and then we made a plan— together.
The spiral ladders of DNA that make us who we are could fill eternity with the variations and unique combinations of traits, but a few things remain constant as the sunrise— we’re all made of sugar, acid, and stone, at least, that’s the way I remember.
Deoxyribo is the sugar part; nucleic acid is nitrogen and phosphates found in the nucleus, the acid and rock. All living things have four bases that make up their chromosomes, two couples who are mated for life— Adenine with Thymine, Cytosine with Guanine, till death do they part.
We can’t do anything about our mendelian traits, they are etched in our bones, but other genes can be turned on or off depending on factors around, in, because of, or in spite of our efforts and the forces of nature, our environment, our thoughts, feelings, beliefs, and everything else we are buffeted by against our will.
There will come a day when disease will be cured by fixing the program, turning on or off the genes we already have written in our code but simply need someone to tinker with a little, so much gentler than the draconian medical procedures of cut and remove, destroy and cauterize; our descendants will feel sorry for what we endured, and study us in awe of our blind faith.
@Home Studio – 354th poem of the year
Runner ups for the DNA photos to accompany my poem:
rebekahjmarshall 