Smell the flesh my friends
As I type, I sit in the Hospital. The smell is excruciating. I smell the flesh of sick people. The sanitization of the ER. The fear of patients awaiting their news. I hear the typing and laughing of nurses. Oh so happy they aren’t sick. I hear the faint bubbles of fish swimming so carelessly.
I wait for the nurse to greet me with her sweet smile and ask, “So dear what’s wrong?” When she finally calls my name I stand up and follow her. I answer the question I’ve been anticipating. I debate if I should make up some ravishing story of some tragic car accident. I decide to stick with the truth. Answer with my boring story. “Oh I was just suffering with some horrid muscle spasms traveling up and down my back. It wasn’t getting any better and my face is now swelling up randomly and tons of other stuff, so my doctor wants me to get some X-rays.” she replies, “I’m so sorry dear.” Unfortunately the look in her big brown eyes seem as if she doesn’t care.
As we walk in awkward silence down a dimmed hall, I take notice of many things I wish I hadn’t. Theres the family in the small chapel making arrangements for their deceased. As the door opens for the priest to walk in I make eye contact with a man. Tears in his eyes, red faced. His arm is around what seems to be his wife. In the background a nurse is talking. This could only have been a few seconds. But the shine of the stained glass windows and the stare of the longing man stay as in imprint in my mind. The sorrow I feel for that family. Who knew that only a moment in time could impact a persons soul for eternity.
There was also the face of the elder. She was also talking to a nurse. The room dark. Only lit by a tv oh so faint in a corner. I can hear her asking for help. Telling the nurse she’s in pain. But when the nurse replies, the elder laughs. It seems as if they have had this conversation before. At least some people can get joy and a laugh with their illness.
This walk that seemed to take a life time is finally over when the nurse and I make a left into a dark room. She hands me a robe. Says the words, “Change into this. Take off you necklace, shirt, and bra. Take your time. Make sure the hole is in the back and I will be waiting when you are done.” When I come out I just barley miss her. The door to the room closing behind her and taking the light with it. What is there to do now but wait? And that’s precisely what I do. I sit in a chair and wait. I wait for her to come back. I wait to take my X-rays. I wait for the news of what’s wrong. What should have only taken 10 minutes feels like forever. I guess now the only thing I can do is wait again. Just sit at home and wait for the doctor to tell me whats wrong. I guess this is is what I get for being sick. Are you trying to tell me something?
