Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Is this how you imagined…

Is this how you imagined…

“Is this how you imagined it would be? “

“No, not at all.”

Two doctors and three nurses stand over me. One nurse hands another a syringe that goes into my left arm. Nurse on the left checks my pulse while Nurse on the right takes a tiny pair of scissors and begins to cut away the remaining pieces of my Marc Jacobs sundress.

“Too small.”

“Excuse me?”

“My mother always hated that dress. She said it was too small. That it was indecent. Too revealing.”

That fact being my crème colored ensemble looked a lot like a piece of walking flesh. A sexually charged garment that sent the mind wandering into the regions of arousal. Now that the pieces are discarded on the floor it resembles a human wrapping that has been peeled off and tossed aside. A useless layer of skin that couldn’t protect me. Right Nurse leaves the fused portions of skin/dress attached to my charred body. Left Nurse lifts the eyelids on my crisp blackened face to check for pupil dilation as she continues to move through my vitals with quick ease.

“Pretty eyes.”

“Thank you.”

“True baby blue.”

“On mother’s side, my great-grandmother had the deepest blue eyes. 'Just like the sky,' my Nana used to say.”

The doctors are discussing last week’s golf tourney as one places a tube down my throat to help with breathing. A nurse steps back to call the operating room for an opening. One nurse leaves the room with a bag filled with blood soaked towels and another nurse enters the room with several pints of blood and saline. Doctor 9-Iron asks Doctor Back-Nine for his opinion on the Masters while gently squeezing the bag that pushes air into my lungs. Back-Nine shakes his head about the last weeks fervor and calls out ‘CLEAR’ before applying two paddles that sends a jolt through my body.

“My grandfather used to have an old fridge that would shock anyone who opened it.”

“Really? A faulty ground wire.”

“Yeah. It would give you a good shake. Funny thing was it never stopped anyone from opening it.”

“That is funny.”

Repeated attempts of compressions and electric shock leave a flat white line shooting across the monitor. Back Nine delicately pushes aside my silicone-less wonders to cut open my chest cavity. Back Nine calls for another syringe as he cracks open my chest and spreads apart my ribs. Right nurse handles the injection. 9-Iron applies hand compressions to my exposed heart. Left nurse continues to alternate bag squeezes between compressions. Nothing. Back Nine brings out two tiny paddles and directly places them to the motionless blood fist in my chest. HIT ME! Nurses stand clear of the fiasco.

“Does it happen like this for everyone? “

“I beg your pardon.”

“You know… when they die? Is it like this?”

“Oh I see. Wouldn’t you rather talk about something else?”

“Like? They are trying to resuscitate my burnt-to-a-crisp body and I’m wondering why I’m standing here watching the show.”

Doctors and nurses race against the clock. Hands continue working overtime to recapture the essence of life. My ivory skin is a blackened shade of burnt flesh beneath their capable hands. Monitors jump with a false hope. Steady sounds sync into rhythm on the tiny screen. Beep. Beep. Beep. Three more injections. IVs drip liquid into my useless veins. Body without a mind. Nurse right sets up the side of the gurney. Nurse left continues bag squeezes. Back Nine grabs the chart as 9-Iron wheels me around and out towards the Operating Room.

“As a child I once had a dream I was flying.”

“Flying? I suppose this is a little like that”

“Isn’t it though? High above the world without anything.”

“No. Not everyone gets to watch. But I thought you’d enjoy this.”


“You never closed your eyes. Always kept them open. Figured you’d want to see…”

“Oh, I’m sorry about that. Thank you. I did enjoy this.”

Spent a little time in the hospital. Shh… No one is dead. It’s all ok. Was inspired though. Can’t say much. It’s a little off my flavor, but I think I may like it. For the time being… Enjoy. M.

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