Intensive care (day 2)
Didn’t sleep last night even though I had a whole hospital bungalow to myself. Anita lies there, body bloated, tongue lolled out, urine dark. I notice she has still got her wedding ring on. Her blood pressure is all over the place, her tongue is swollen out but I can’t help feeling she is sticking out to the world.
Listening to Johnny Cash, not my usual fare but very fitting.
I hurt myself today to see if I still feel
I focus on the pain the only thing that’s real
the needle tears a hole the old familiar sting
try to kill it all away but I remember everything
what have I become my sweetest friend
everyone I know goes away in the end
The absolute worst thing you can do in intensive care is sit and settle to the beat of the machines. Hanging your emotions on the rythmes and sounds. You have to try and let it all unfold naturally and wait for official news from the Doctors. It’s easy to succumb to the all powerful rollercoaster.
This time around it feels even harder than the last. Back then my mind and love was pure, a settled fate awaited. Unsulled by the ambiguities of life. She wants to be at peace yet the wonders of modern medicine won’t allow it. I know Anita is more distressed awake than unconcious therefore I beg the staff to release her. She has taken enough drugs, however the combination is unpredictable. The posibility of further damage hangs in the air like a radioactive cloud.
10.40pm Anita has opened her eyes, it was all calm until now. As she awoke I felt the sharpest pain for her I have ever felt, her wish is denied and she could soon be suffering again. I go back to the bungalow and collapse into a dreamless sleep.