Here I am, the beeping noise of the infernal heart monitor is driving me crazy. I am annoyed at the tubes and lines that seem to criss cross like highways over my body.
I have to pee.. no, oh it's the pull of the catheter, who's' invention was that? I turn my head to wards the window and see pieces of a magnificent sky, blue, so very blue, like the day of the pop, then the spill.
What I don't understand is, why am I still here? Wasn't it humiliating enough to know I had run out of youth? Wasn't it humiliating enough to have collapsed in front of the coffee lady?
Now, I would suffer the ultimate humiliation, the ultimate sense of helplessness.
The Dr. came in and explained what I already knew, he spoke slow, very slow, very loud and, made hand gestures as if that would help. I wanted to scream at him, I could hear, I could even understand.. Yes I know,,, CVA!!! when pulled apart meant months or maybe years of rehab that might or might not work.. It meant speech therapy so that I wouldn't sound like an infant, it meant I would need help to eat, sleep, sh-- and shave!
I closed my eyes and felt the tear slide down my face. I made a mid-year resolution then.. When I had the chance.....