Friday, September 24, 2004
When someone asks for you, swimming up from the drugged false sleep of anaesthesia, it’s a strange mélange of emotions you feel. Love, because her eyelids are pink and her voice childish through the cloudy, mazy dreamscape she’s speaking from. She is very small underneath the sheet, and asks for a kiss. Gratefulness for her being safe, and well again. Relief at having her back, because when they wheeled her away we felt like orphans, the two of us, holding hands like children. Or like the ones who watch a ship slowly drift out of a harbour, feeling like their heart goes with the vessel.... fluttering on the billow of a sunset sail. She waved, her eyes big and glittering with nervous dread.*
"i think the nurse thinks we're scared"
"huuuunh, we are not!" *drops hand and crosses arms all macho*
"mainey naii karnaaaaaa"
"you don't have to do anything baby, all you gotta do is sleep"
"look what i'm wearing in your honour"
there was an old unconscious woman who had no nose
i don't want to wear ICU chappals, heaven knows who's ringwormy feet have gone in them (but i do anyway)
"my gown's scotch-taped shut heehee" (it really was)
Mina at 10:09 PM
