"Strange for you"- she said- always looking after others, "and today it is your turn".
The morning unfolded into floral gowns and blue extraterrestrial theatre
beings. This added to the surreal feeling as I succumbed to the change
of role from carer to patient, strong to vulnerable, woman to child
-almost. But to be that child, I needed you- who tasted every corner of
this ward, every ill fitting toilet seat, every uncomfortable chair,
every blue curtain that enclosed you for more probes, more efforts, more
life.
But you swallowed the medicine until that day you spat it back at them with a dignified- no more.
I have spent the months since searching for you.
Today, wheeled on a trolly from theatre to ward, my eyes take in the
ceiling lights you saw but weeks ago, the bland backdrop of false
ceilings, and in a haze of anaesthetic- the roof blew off the hospital-
and I flew up to hug you, smell you and get a taste of your new ife.
It tasted great! And not a bit strange.
This is beautiful and sad, Noelle. L x
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