Blue Scrub Soldier

I’m a blue scrub soldier In a war I didn’t start . I’m a carer not a fighter Less courage, all heart.

On the frontline in ICU, Kitted out in PPE Blue scrubs, mask, and hazmat suit, I’m haunted by what I see.

Young and old on life support, Machines surround each bed, We do our best to keep them breathing, But Covid claims them for dead.

The media call us heroes, But that’s the last thing I am, All I did when the virus hit, Was my job, the best I can.

If anything, I feel a fraud, We could not save them all, People clap to support my efforts, But I fear they were too small.

As Covid infiltrates the wards, Infecting our precious air, I’m terrified I could be next, The dread, I cannot bear.

These dark times are tinged with blue. Blue scrubs and masks and gloves, Feeling blue as we battle on, Losing those I love.

But blue is also the colour of hope, Like the sky after a storm. People are getting better, surviving, As life returns to norm.

I think back to my mother’s words, “Our experiences make us unique”. I’ve lived and learned the truth of this, Though living it makes me weep.

A quiet girl turned blue scrub soldier I’m stronger than I knew, I’ve found a hidden confidence, That shines in me anew.

I’m proud of the woman I have become, I know now that I’m brave, For bravery doesn’t mean feeling no fear, It means not being fear’s slave.