We are limited in our perception.
We see things in a linear way, cause and effect, past and future, before and after.
We see people we don’t know as static.
Poor people are poor.
Rich people are rich.
Happy people are happy.
Sad people are sad.
This is easier. 1/
We see things in a linear way, cause and effect, past and future, before and after.
We see people we don’t know as static.
Poor people are poor.
Rich people are rich.
Happy people are happy.
Sad people are sad.
This is easier. 1/
When I’m lying here, in this bed, am I just a sick person to you?
Am I just a diagnosis code, a treatment algorithm, a discharge pending?
Of course not, you say.
But look at me.
Really look at me.
See that crease in my elbow? My daughter rests her cheek there. 2/
Am I just a diagnosis code, a treatment algorithm, a discharge pending?
Of course not, you say.
But look at me.
Really look at me.
See that crease in my elbow? My daughter rests her cheek there. 2/
See those feet with their dry and cracked heels? I have walked miles upon miles for the people I love.
Look into my eyes as I look at you. I have gazed upon such beauty and such agony.
See the breadth of my shoulders? My grandson sits there, when we go to the park. 3/
Look into my eyes as I look at you. I have gazed upon such beauty and such agony.
See the breadth of my shoulders? My grandson sits there, when we go to the park. 3/
Even my name, do you really see it?
It’s just a name. It’s static.
But it isn’t.
It hums with Life. The history of me. It has a story it whispers to no one.
Even my blood you have drawn every morning.
Each cell is a universe within me, of me, only me.
Do you see? 4/
It’s just a name. It’s static.
But it isn’t.
It hums with Life. The history of me. It has a story it whispers to no one.
Even my blood you have drawn every morning.
Each cell is a universe within me, of me, only me.
Do you see? 4/
I am just a name on your list.
But the entire Universe, all of history, past, present, future
all that ever was and all that ever will be...
... all of it ...
... flows ...
... through ...
... me ....
Can you see?
Me. 5/
But the entire Universe, all of history, past, present, future
all that ever was and all that ever will be...
... all of it ...
... flows ...
... through ...
... me ....
Can you see?
Me. 5/
I walk to my car in the parking lot outside the hospital. It’s 8:30PM and most of the parking spaces are empty now.
The air is surprisingly chilly. I never look at the weather forecast, or plan ahead.
I just accept the cold.
Sitting in my car, I exhale deeply and wait. 6/
The air is surprisingly chilly. I never look at the weather forecast, or plan ahead.
I just accept the cold.
Sitting in my car, I exhale deeply and wait. 6/
What am I waiting for? I don’t know. But I always do it. Sit there and wait for a few moments.
Starting the car, I remember that my fridge is empty. I’ve been meaning to get groceries for a few weeks now.
I’ll get around to it, soon, perhaps.
Something is bothering me. 7/
Starting the car, I remember that my fridge is empty. I’ve been meaning to get groceries for a few weeks now.
I’ll get around to it, soon, perhaps.
Something is bothering me. 7/
I drive to a small restaurant near my apartment. I’m a regular here.
I always ask for a table for two. Old habit.
The waitress used to ask me when my second person would show up. She knows better now.
As I sit down, I still feel...
... off. 8/
I always ask for a table for two. Old habit.
The waitress used to ask me when my second person would show up. She knows better now.
As I sit down, I still feel...
... off. 8/
The waitress senses it, and smiles. “Rough day?”
I summon as genuine a smile as I can, “Yeah, rough day.”
The truth is a patient of mine died today. But the truth is also that people die every day. I don’t want to talk about it.
A thought occurs to me. 9/
I summon as genuine a smile as I can, “Yeah, rough day.”
The truth is a patient of mine died today. But the truth is also that people die every day. I don’t want to talk about it.
A thought occurs to me. 9/
I look at the waitress, really look at her.
I see the way she keeps pens in a neat row in her shirt pocket, and how the tattoo on her wrist says a name.
I see that her shoelaces are symmetrically tied, and her eyes are slightly reddened.
“How’s your day going?” I ask her. 10/
I see the way she keeps pens in a neat row in her shirt pocket, and how the tattoo on her wrist says a name.
I see that her shoelaces are symmetrically tied, and her eyes are slightly reddened.
“How’s your day going?” I ask her. 10/
She smiles sadly, “Kinda rough too, to be honest.” But in an instant, her cheerful persona returns, “Would you like the usual?”
“Sure,” I say, and smile. “I’m sorry it’s been a rough day, I hope it gets better.”
“It’s almost over,” is her response, before she walks away. 11/
“Sure,” I say, and smile. “I’m sorry it’s been a rough day, I hope it gets better.”
“It’s almost over,” is her response, before she walks away. 11/
I sit at my corner table, set for two, and slowly drag my fingertips along the tablecloth.
The hum of the conversations around me is comforting. It’s why I come here.
I could get takeout, but sitting alone in my apartment never helps on a night like this. 12/
The hum of the conversations around me is comforting. It’s why I come here.
I could get takeout, but sitting alone in my apartment never helps on a night like this. 12/
When a patient dies, a large red “deceased” shows up next to their name on the chart.
I have to click and remove them from my patient list.
It’s no big deal. Just a button to click.
Deaths, transfers, and discharges.
Just names, coming off my list.
Don’t think too much. 13/
I have to click and remove them from my patient list.
It’s no big deal. Just a button to click.
Deaths, transfers, and discharges.
Just names, coming off my list.
Don’t think too much. 13/
My football team is playing well these days. I let me mind travel to the next game coming up this Monday, and I am mercifully distracted.
But then I hear the sound of an ambulance siren.
This is the price I pay for living close to work.
I am constantly reminded. 14/
But then I hear the sound of an ambulance siren.
This is the price I pay for living close to work.
I am constantly reminded. 14/
As I walk back to my car after finishing my meal, it has gotten even colder.
Now I’m shivering, and my breath fogs, hanging in the air in front of my face.
The stars are particularly bright tonight. In fact, they’re dazzling.
Before getting in my car, I pause to look up. 15/
Now I’m shivering, and my breath fogs, hanging in the air in front of my face.
The stars are particularly bright tonight. In fact, they’re dazzling.
Before getting in my car, I pause to look up. 15/
Sitting behind the steering wheel, I exhale deeply and wait for a few, precious, moments.
What am I waiting for?
I don’t know.
All I can think of are new constellations, red names on lists, and books closing before anyone reads them.
What am I waiting for?
I don’t know.
All I can think of are new constellations, red names on lists, and books closing before anyone reads them.
