Updated: Aug 2, 2021
“ Things you think when you’re lying in a sterile hospital room at 3 am hyperventilating slightly from anxiety and lung fluids on the other side of a curtain from a stranger for the third day in a row... "
The stoic doctor updated me with his stoic smirk, hooked his plastic pen back onto his digital pad, and bolted out as quickly as usual. He had just described my tough road ahead with potentially little heart capacity and was non-committal on a future of rebuilding it. And for fun, he threw in that I had a few blood clots on my lungs, adding that if I hadn’t shown up this week in tears I would have shown up in a few weeks dead. So once the lights go down on the busy hallways and moving gurneys, and the visitors disappear back into what looks from my 11th floor window as a city where well people live carelessly, the mind does some colorful things while it simultaneously processes both illness and fear and aches for a future.
Things you think when you’re lying in a sterile hospital room at 3 am hyperventilating slightly from anxiety and lung fluids on the other side of a curtain from a stranger for the third day in a row:
I am now a sick person I will never feel sexy again I will never have sex again I wish I only had last year’s problems I will never wake up happy again I will not be desirable to anyone as a partner I will lose my job I will be dependent on others I don’t know who my others are I know and see so many unhealthy people who will never go through this I have tried so hard I have already been through so much
Then you think this:
I would prefer to live simply It is free to worship Krishna/God I embrace and acknowledge change and new adventures Truly living is to truly change I am only 52 I haven’t even left the hospital I have only been on medication two days Google doesn’t know it all It is my journey I am not dead yet
So air in/air out. And fill my basket of information. And sort through the medical jargon from the white and blue coats, as they are often scientists not translators, and certainly not the tour guides we desperately need when we get to here. I came in with bronchitis and I am leaving with a life sentence. But wasn’t it one anyway? I just understand what is coming a little sooner than later. Because later would not have worked out so well. There. I found some gratitude. I knew I would. Hare Krishna.