Out of my depth. (hospital)

Last week I had a vision of a wolf. It’s heavy, warm paw was rested on my chest, like dogs/cats do. I own you. You are not moving. All night long. Next day, Janaki shows up with a Wolf. Janaki slaps a bracelet on my wrist and says, “This is for protection.”

Eric and Mom say, “You need to get a lawyer.”

Carol says, ‘No you will not be taking an Uber home from the hospital.”

Andrea says, “No you will not be walking to the mailbox every day until you’ve talked to your physical therapist.”

I am out of my depth, and I put myself in the hands of others. This is what spirit is telling me to do. 

When you are in the ICU, you have to ask permission to go to the bathroom every time which is a little embarrassing if you’re one of the tribe that goes – it seems – every 10 minutes. In order to go to the bathroom they have to unplug you from four devices. The one that checks your heart with all the little stickies that you will find on your body when you get home. The one that checks the oxygen on your finger like ET. The one that takes your blood pressure (the medieval torture device). And your IV if you’re lucky to have one. You’ll probably have two. I keep getting that that image in my head of the crazy criminal or superhero that rips these things off of their body and runs out of the room – but that seems silly. I am learning how to disconnect them though. I figure if they don’t have time to answer my call button, then if I disconnect myself, alarms will go off and then they will have to come.

So, I got myself into the bathroom and I came back to my bed and the very good looking nurse makes a joke saying, “Oh, an independent strong woman will take them off but you’re not going to put them back on?”

I forgot. So, I say, “Oh.. well.. independent strong women have to be careful not to blow away the men.”

His phone rings. He says, “Oh I have to go. My fiance wants to have lunch.” This makes me wildly humerated. I don’t think I’m that big of a flirt.

He says, “Do you want the door shut?” and I say, “Yes, please” and he chides me, “Should I slam it?” I don’t know what that meant. There’s lots of good cheer at the hospital. I told this story to the next female nurse I had and she thought it was very funny. She said sometimes the neurosurgeon team walks down the hallway in kind of a lock step, like one big group and it’s really weird to watch. 

There is an older white man walking the hall at the same time I am. We both have canes. I gave him a thumbs up and say, “You’re doing it.”

He says, “You’re doing it too.”

Some lady doctor tries to give me a lesson in social etiquette. She’s complaining about how dark it is in the room. This is not the first time the doctors have complained about how dark the room is. “I’m going to turn the light on now.” then, “Now we can see each other! My name is so-and-so.” Classic Pacific Northwest move.

I just stare at her like… this is the neuro floor. Everyone has headaches. What the hell.

I feel like somebody picked me up and set me back down in a freight train going in a direction, I have no idea. We think of The Dark Night of the Soul as deep things in our subconscious that we need to bring to light and deal with, or the concept of karma.. a lot having to do with “work“ we have to do to improve ourselves. Healing old wounds. But random shit happens, and there might not be any reason. Reason is created, so we can use the immense force of an event or accident and direct it in the direction we want. For instance, if I’m not supposed to think very much or watch complicated things on the screens or read a lot of books then I don’t really have a choice but to use my mental training from a long life of metaphysics.

So, I’ve decided I’m going to have a spiritual breakthrough. Ha ha ha. We’ll see. 

I closed my eyes for the whole ride home yesterday so I didn’t have to see all the possible car collisions. Today, I can sometimes still hear a man yelling down the halllway: Helloooohhhh!! (see last blog)

People get thrown into deep water and learn how to swim. Maybe part of the process is realizing the question, “What is this stuff that I’m in? Oh. This is water. How far does it go?”

I will never know because I don’t have sonar. So the only thing that matters is what is directly around my own body and senses. If I’m going to die by shark, I won’t see it coming. And I may or may not need to breathe in all this water. It might be a different kind of journey. There might be types of fish I’ve never encountered before. There might be underwater landscapes and things happening in rocky, coral villages with shimmering light filtering down through the surface. 

Another question about this new space is “How do things connect or work?” I know that one. It’s you. It’s us. As a former, former people-hating introvert, I’m here to tell you, our connections make the world go round. The lovey-dovey songs from the 70s are all true.

I’m going to nap with a wolf now.

4 thoughts on “Out of my depth. (hospital)”

  1. Me again, I realized the last line didn’t copy, so here is the last stanza again…
    I’ve allus noticed grate success
    Is mixed with troubles, more er less,
    And it’s the man who does the best
    That gets more kicks than all the rest.

    Healing prayers for You, A

  2. Sorry for the shape the poem I sent took on this format. Have someone read it aloud who knows and can pronounce 19th century English. And where he says MAN, I take that for HUMAN, this poem found me in 1992 when I needed it and has served me well. I hope you rally soon, but in the mean time, “wander in yor mind a spell” Love, A

  3. Tasara, A favorite of mine, Anslie
    MY PHILOSOFY
    by James Whitcomb Riley
    I AIN’T, ner don’t p’tend to be,
    Much posted on philosofy;
    But thare is times, when all alone,
    I work out idees of my own.
    And of these same thare is a few
    I’d like to jest refer to you—
    Pervidin’ that you don’t object
    To listen clos’t and rickollect.

    I allus argy that a man
    Who does about the best he can
    Is plenty good enugh to suit
    This lower mundane institute—
    No matter ef his daily walk
    Is subject fer his neghbor’s talk,
    And critic-minds of ev’ry whim
    Jest all git up and go fer him!

    I knowed a feller onc’t that had
    The yeller-janders mighty bad,—
    And each and ev’ry friend he’d meet
    Would stop and give him some receet
    Fer cuorin’ of ’em. But he’d say
    He kindo’ thought they’d go away
    Without no medicin’, and boast
    That he’d git well without one doste.

    He kep’ a-yellerin’ on—and they
    Perdictin’ that he’d die some day
    Before he knowed it! Tuck his bed,
    The feller did, and lost his head,
    And wundered in his mind a spell—
    Then rallied, and, at last, got well,
    But ev’ry friend that said he’d die
    Went back on him eternally!

    It’s natchurl enugh, I guess,
    When some gits more and some gits less,
    Fer them-uns on the slimmest side
    To claim it ain’t a fare divide;
    And I’ve knowed some to lay and wait,
    And git up soon, and set up late,
    To ketch some feller they could hate
    Fer goin’ at a faster gait.

    The signs is bad when folks commence
    A-findin’ fault with Providence,
    And balkin’ ’cause the earth don’t shake
    At ev’ry prancin’ step they take.
    No man is grate tel he can see
    How less than little he would be
    Ef stripped to self, and stark and bare
    He hung his sign out anywhare.

    My doctern is to lay aside
    Contensions, and be satisfied:
    Jest do your best, and praise er blame
    That follers that, counts jest the same.

    I’ve allus noticed grate success
    Is mixed with troubles, more er less,
    And it’s the man who does the best
    That gets more kicks than all the rest.

    1. So much love, Anslie. Since the day I met you, I’ve felt your love palpably from afar. I am privileged to have such wise friends. It does seeem that the more we know, the smaller we get, right? It seems so much important lately to just show up for life and do my best than try to be someone. Awesome poem. Love the voice!

      Thank you.
      Tasara

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