Heidi Lewis

Differential Diagnosis

“Differential Diagnosis” is a digitally-illustrated satirical comic mimicking the game Candyland. Instead of delicious treats, it depicts medical instruments, such as a syringe, a bandage, and a reflex hammer. There’s also a simple drawing of a little girl shouting “Hooray”. The game board follows the artist’s journey on the winding path from the start of her pain symptoms to various treatments, such as PT, splinting, injections, and surgery. There are various obstacles, including “therapy flats,” the “swamp of despair,” “injection alley,” “rocks of dashed hopes,” and “pool of tears” ending with an arrow pointing off the page that reads “no end in sight.” At the bottom righthand corner is the signature of the artist's pen name, Hertza Lott.
“Differential Diagnosis” is a digitally-illustrated satirical comic mimicking the game Candyland. Instead of delicious treats, it depicts medical instruments, such as a syringe, a bandage, and a reflex hammer. There’s also a simple drawing of a little girl shouting “Hooray”. The game board follows the artist’s journey on the winding path from the start of her pain symptoms to various treatments, such as PT, splinting, injections, and surgery. There are various obstacles, including “therapy flats,” the “swamp of despair,” “injection alley,” “rocks of dashed hopes,” and “pool of tears” ending with an arrow pointing off the page that reads “no end in sight.” At the bottom righthand corner is the signature of the artist’s pen name, Hertza Lott.

Back to Top of Page | Back to Art | Back to Volume 17, Issue 2 – Winter 2023-2024

Midnight Pain Poetry (1st Edition)

“Midnight Pain Poetry (1st Edition)” is a digitally-illustrated poem that depicts a lone woman sinking to the depths of a seemingly bottomless ocean. The poem reads: “Sometimes chronic pain makes you feel like you are sinking. The end.” The word “sinking” is drawn on a descending slant to simulate the feeling of sinking. In the bottom right-hand corner are the artist's initials "HL."
“Midnight Pain Poetry (1st Edition)” is a digitally-illustrated poem that depicts a lone woman sinking to the depths of a seemingly bottomless ocean. The poem reads: “Sometimes chronic pain makes you feel like you are sinking. The end.” The word “sinking” is drawn on a descending slant to simulate the feeling of sinking. In the bottom right-hand corner are the artist’s initials “HL.”

Back to Top of Page | Back to Art | Back to Volume 17, Issue 2 – Winter 2023-2024

Midnight Pain Poetry (4th Edition)

“Midnight Pain Poetry (4th Edition)” is a digitally-illustrated poem entitled “Ode to Former Doctors.” There’s a small caduceus (medical symbol of two snakes coiling up a winged staff) near the title. The poem reads: For all the times you DISMISSED MY PAIN (“dismissed my pain” is in all caps), For all the co-pays paid in VAIN (“vain” is in all caps). For every PROCEDURE, SURGERY, SHOT (“procedure, surgery, shot” are in all caps). For each treatment, all for NAUGHT (“naught” is all caps). For FRUSTRATION, DESPAIR, and GRIEF (“frustration, despair, and grief” are in all caps). For SLEEPLESS NIGHTS without RELIEF (“sleepless nights” and “relief” are in all caps). For you, FORMER DOCTORS, I have one PLEA (“former doctors” and “plea” are in all caps.) PLEASE treat the next patient better than ME (“please” and “me” are in all caps.) The poem is signed “by Hertza Lott.”
“Midnight Pain Poetry (4th Edition)” is a digitally-illustrated poem entitled “Ode to Former Doctors.” There’s a small caduceus (medical symbol of two snakes coiling up a winged staff) near the title. The poem reads: For all the times you DISMISSED MY PAIN (“dismissed my pain” is in all caps), For all the co-pays paid in VAIN (“vain” is in all caps). For every PROCEDURE, SURGERY, SHOT (“procedure, surgery, shot” are in all caps). For each treatment, all for NAUGHT (“naught” is all caps). For FRUSTRATION, DESPAIR, and GRIEF (“frustration, despair, and grief” are in all caps). For SLEEPLESS NIGHTS without RELIEF (“sleepless nights” and “relief” are in all caps). For you, FORMER DOCTORS, I have one PLEA (“former doctors” and “plea” are in all caps.) PLEASE treat the next patient better than ME (“please” and “me” are in all caps.) The poem is signed “by Hertza Lott.”

Back to Top of Page | Back to Art | Back to Volume 17, Issue 2 – Winter 2023-2024

Pain Journal Day 5772

“Pain Journal Day 5772” is a hand-inked, hand-lettered, digitally-enhanced satirical comic. Beneath the title it reads: “Rate today’s pain: between five and six”. On the next line it reads: “hip and elbow pain the same. At least I slept last night.” There are four square panels in a two by two format depicting simple black and white illustrations of a male doctor speaking to a patient. The patient’s head is replaced with a large orange circle and two ovals for eyes and a single slanted line for a mouth (representing between five and six on the pain scale). The first panel’s caption reads: “Reasons I think it’s so hard to pinpoint the source of my chronic pain. (These have all happened to me.)” The doctor’s speech bubble reads: You’re a middle-aged woman. You are bound to have a few aches and pains.” The second panel’s caption reads: “I have chosen not to take pain medications.” The doctor holds a clipboard and says: “OK. I can give you Gaba, Lyrica, Muscle Relaxants, maybe slip in a few Opioids...” The patient says: “I don’t think it’s wise to cover up the problem.” The doctor replies: “Well, you must not be in very much pain then…” The third panel’s caption reads: I don’t cry or get “hysterical” at the doctor’s office. (More on this later). The doctor says: “You look fine to me.” The patient’s expression remains unchanged. The fourth panel’s caption reads: “I was cursed as a baby by an evil fairy.” In the panel, there’s an illustration of a winged evil fairy who hovers over a wooden cradle. She aims her wand at the frightened baby inside. At the bottom righthand corner is the signature of the artist's pen name, Hertza Lott.
“Pain Journal Day 5772” is a hand-inked, hand-lettered, digitally-enhanced satirical comic. Beneath the title it reads: “Rate today’s pain: between five and six”. On the next line it reads: “hip and elbow pain the same. At least I slept last night.” There are four square panels in a two by two format depicting simple black and white illustrations of a male doctor speaking to a patient. The patient’s head is replaced with a large orange circle and two ovals for eyes and a single slanted line for a mouth (representing between five and six on the pain scale). The first panel’s caption reads: “Reasons I think it’s so hard to pinpoint the source of my chronic pain. (These have all happened to me.)” The doctor’s speech bubble reads: You’re a middle-aged woman. You are bound to have a few aches and pains.” The second panel’s caption reads: “I have chosen not to take pain medications.” The doctor holds a clipboard and says: “OK. I can give you Gaba, Lyrica, Muscle Relaxants, maybe slip in a few Opioids…” The patient says: “I don’t think it’s wise to cover up the problem.” The doctor replies: “Well, you must not be in very much pain then…” The third panel’s caption reads: I don’t cry or get “hysterical” at the doctor’s office. (More on this later). The doctor says: “You look fine to me.” The patient’s expression remains unchanged. The fourth panel’s caption reads: “I was cursed as a baby by an evil fairy.” In the panel, there’s an illustration of a winged evil fairy who hovers over a wooden cradle. She aims her wand at the frightened baby inside. At the bottom righthand corner is the signature of the artist’s pen name, Hertza Lott.

Back to Top of Page | Back to Art | Back to Volume 17, Issue 2 – Winter 2023-2024

About the Artist

Heidi Lewis is a writer and chronic pain sufferer with a genetic hip deformity. As a cathartic exercise, she’s been keeping a pain journal in the form of comics (under the pen name Hertza Lott). Heidi also started writing “midnight poetry” when she can’t sleep because of pain. Visit Heidi on Instagram: @betweenfiveandsix.