Tuesday, November 11, 2014

I Am Just A Head

[I suppose I should "introduce" myself in a way. While I'd rather you find out with me, as I really have no clue sometimes myself-how does one label oneself?-I will allow you a small glimpse into the beginning of (one) of my stories. 




 I am just a head  

Colors hazy. Lights brighter. I can only make out family members by their voices.

 Muffled.

Recognized from some far away place a
long time ago. 
The  echoes remind me I am not at home.

 Complete darkness never comes.  

Sounds louder.

 the swoossh of the ventilator

The beeps on my leads.

Doors opening and closing.

The every 15 minute motorized mechanical vibe of the blood pressure cuff.

 Smells the most potent of all. 

Acidic lysol. Bleach. 

The Milky vomit of the feed that 
            D
               R
                   I
                      P
                         S
Down my nose

Baby powder-latex gloves-urine


When one nurse leans over me,
 I greedily breath her in.
cinnamon chewing gum,
 cigarette smoke,
 the inside of a purse

The food eaten in front of me that I cannot eat.


 I ask to watch the Kardashians because that was my favorite guilty pleasure before I was here in this place.
A nurse says, " I can't imagine any of them having to go through something like this. They couldn't."

In this particular episode, they are discussing rumors of Kim having butt implants


Glossy hair extensions. 

Tan skin. 

Perfectly arched brows.

Plush couches. 

Designer clothes

Health

 A study in contrast:. 

Feeding tubes. 

Hospital gowns.

Catheter bags. 

Sister crying in the hallway. 

Shaved baby bird heads with spinal fluid seeping out.

I ask my mother when I can go back to school and work. She tells me she withdrew me from school and put me on leave from work.

There was a time when anger was closed door sullen.

New this gagged- hog-tied-frustration. 

She doesn't have the heart to tell me the doctor tells her I'll never 
breath on my own
move 
feel
talk 
or 
eat again.  

But, she lies as mothers do and says, "You were in a really bad wreck, honey. It will probably take a few months, then you can go back."

I cry for the first time. I ask her to kill me.

Every time I wake, I ask where my boyfriend is.  I need him there. We haven't  spent a day apart in two years. Off in rehabilitation in another state, I am lonely in a way I've  never felt. I can't understand what is more important than being with me.

 We are In love.

So Momma lets me call him.

I have no voice.

 I mouth words to her to tell him. All I can say is, "I love you" over and over again. When I finally hear his voice call me our favorite pet name "pup,"  I sleep easy through the night.  

Neurons firing memories deleted from my hard drive. 
My spinal cord a dead whale, 
belly-up 
swelling. 
nerves scrambling in
my confused body, 
lost in roads it has never travelled. 

Disorientation.
 
I am unable to tell where my body is in space. 

I am sterile. White. Cleansed. Purer than I've ever been. A nun. 

Two things happen next: I am able to wiggle my toes, and wake up out of a dead sleep when I feel my nurse touch my arm. 

Still mainly a head. 

But a little bit of an arm and some toes leaves an invisible smirk.

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