The world is a vast expanse of nothingness, spanning as far as the eye can see. No one gives a damn where I have wandered to. I don't give a damn.
The phone rings, "Hello?"
"Hello" I repeat.
"What are you doing?"
I blank, I have no idea.
I sit puzzled. What am I doing? I have absolutely no idea. I look around. The television is on, but the sound is off. I sit in a strange upright position that is unfamiliar to me. I can't remember thinking about anything. It was if I had no idea. I had lost that unknown amount of time. It was just gone.
I'd like to fancy myself and say I was on a higher spiritual plane through meditation, but I can't prove that is the case. I wasn't meditating at all. Just sitting. Finally silent. It is the first time in my life I can ever remember my brain doing nothing.
The anxiety was gone for that brief moment. It was incredible.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Monday, February 9, 2009
Oh what a night...
late December back in '63. Ok, fast forward mid-February back in '09. Just doesn't have the same ring, does it?
Today we sat and watched the head of medical cardiac transplant cry. A man who sees death on a weekly basis. We sat silently as he cried for his dying mentor. For a man who has done so much for pediatric heart transplant. A man dying before his time of cancer. He will be gone in an approximated month and morbidly we sit around discussing how we will tell the patients he saw here. We all cried, some because of their respect and love for their mentor, others for unexplained reasons, and me for the pain of my mentor.
In 22 minutes a funeral will begin for one of our patients that passed away last week. I glanced down at my shoes as I said good-bye to the nurses who were off to attend the funeral. Afraid to look them in the eye because there is nothing to say. Nothing to do. Another good-bye.
I picked up my phone and checked a message I received while watching my boss cry. It was my personal doctor. She is concerned with my lab results and would like me to come in for an invasive procedure. Worried I may be bleeding inside. Nothing that will kill me, just another scare. Another irritation. Another worry.
Today is a hard day.
Today we sat and watched the head of medical cardiac transplant cry. A man who sees death on a weekly basis. We sat silently as he cried for his dying mentor. For a man who has done so much for pediatric heart transplant. A man dying before his time of cancer. He will be gone in an approximated month and morbidly we sit around discussing how we will tell the patients he saw here. We all cried, some because of their respect and love for their mentor, others for unexplained reasons, and me for the pain of my mentor.
In 22 minutes a funeral will begin for one of our patients that passed away last week. I glanced down at my shoes as I said good-bye to the nurses who were off to attend the funeral. Afraid to look them in the eye because there is nothing to say. Nothing to do. Another good-bye.
I picked up my phone and checked a message I received while watching my boss cry. It was my personal doctor. She is concerned with my lab results and would like me to come in for an invasive procedure. Worried I may be bleeding inside. Nothing that will kill me, just another scare. Another irritation. Another worry.
Today is a hard day.
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