I’m in the hospital. I had to go to the emergency room because I couldn’t stand up because I was weak and dehydrated from days of vomiting.
It all happened suddenly and apparently it’s just a complication from the surgery I had and my bowel got twisted or something. I’m honest with you because I have nothing to hide. I’m on morphine for the pain and endless fluids being pumped in- of course my arms are all poked to death because they couldn’t find a vein- but that’s ok, I felt nothing at all. I’ve been poked so much, needles mean nothing to me. Everyone is so nice and I love the kindness of their well meaning hearts.
And I look around in this room and it’s the middle of the night and I’m all alone-and the clocks too loud and the machine next to me is irritating and I have this horrible tube that smells like plastic going up my nose and into my stomach to pump out all the green bile so I’ll stop throwing up. The doctor said I’m lucky I came because I was deathly dehydrated.
And I didn’t know what the problem was and maybe this time I will die. And I felt nothing. No fear. Only sadness for the sick people and only love for the plight of us all.
It’s just so funny how truly lost we are. Why can’t we see that nothing matters. There’s nothing to get and nobody out there. It’s us alone with our truth, whatever that is, and that’s it. I hope you’re comfortable there. I was thinking, ” I could die tonight” and I knew for sure, that it would just be me with who I’d become and who I believed I was. That would be all I would have. So what’s the point of any of this torture we subject ourselves to when the truth can strike at any moment?
And I can’t drink any water or eat of course. And I’m only getting thinner and there’s blood all over my hand where the needle keeps slipping. And I can’t breath through my nose and I can’t sleep and I’m being tortured by the kind doctors and nurses so I won’t die, just yet.
We should get real. I like it here all alone at 3am because it brings me close to the edge of something real. I’m dying of thirst, just like a hungry ghost. And it’s real. The suffering of our lives and our frail mortality are the two most real things we have. We’re on the wire, we really are.
And in a way it feels like heaven to be this free.
These people seem like angels. The sick people walking slowly down the halls dragging their oxygen tanks don’t fool me at all. It’s everywhere. It’s God in drag. And what an elation
to be in the charnel grounds once again and it’s all so different than before. This illusion is so grand. I love every second of it.
But never let your tears fade away. Never let your angst stray far. These are gifts and reminders of our right to be here. Our right to be had and loved in the midst of all the hunger and vomit. We’re searching you know, for the other end of the string. And my body is strong and my spirit is stronger. But my body is transient and shifting.
Who then, can I be forever? Because you won’t find her in a mirror or a hospital.
You’ll only find her in your Braveheart.