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The Patient’s Perspective: A Friend Like No Other
Laurie Batitto Bisconti
Posted May 2002
Headache 2002;42:157


There’s a man on the couch with a hammer in his hand sitting next to me,
We are chained together,
I to him.
He to me.
There’s no escape, for I do not have the key.
Our days and nights are spent together as you can see,
He uses his hammer to smash my brain until I cannot hear and cannot see.
I laugh in defiance and pretend I am free.
But smash! Crash! Crush!
He swings him hammer again!
He is part of me.

There’s a man on the bed with a hammer in his hand lying next to me.
I look away and wish he were gone,
But it is no use (the ice pick is on),
I wince from the blows,
Through my eyes, through my brain to the core of my being the ice pick goes.
Pain, sobs, terror flood my brain, I run through the house to escape the pain.

There’s a man next to me running through the house with a hammer in his hand
He will not let me be.
Snap!
Shaking, whirling, I can feel my brain rattle,
The blows will not end
On goes the battle.
This one is a war that will go on all night.
I have upset him somehow and I will give in without a fight.
Down, down, crack to the floor,
The hammer explodes in my head with a roar.

I think to myself - "I must be no more."
This must be the end - the key to release my hammering friend.
But alas, I awake with a kick to the head,
I’ll survive one more day,
There’s pain,
I’m not dead.

I am numb now and glancing down at me is the man chained to me with the hammer striking my head,
One, two, three.
If I can only understand how he came to be, then perhaps I could find the key.
For until then, he reminds me again and again, that I am his prisoner,
My brain is his playpen.
I can do nothing; it’s up to his whim.

I retreat to the darkness, I crawl undercover, but he is still with me,
A friend like no other.
The hammer swings and cracks through my skull,
I cannot think anymore, my senses are dull.
There’s a man chained to me with a hammer in his hand who has stolen my life,
Do you understand?