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You Are Unburdened, and for That, You Have My Envy
Jealousy for those outside the hospital walls
If I never see another hospital again, it will be too soon. They are cold, frosty places, and not only for the reasons you think. Perhaps you knew this already? Or maybe you knew this, once, but time elapsed — came and went — and you forgot.
It’s a detail that easily escapes you, over time.
Other details escape, as well. You forget about the unforgiving stiffness of the chairs. The relentless coming-and-going of staff. The drone of some patient’s whatever-the-hell machine beeping down the hall.
Such important details at the time, or so they seem. As you sit there, awake, heavy, and burdened — awaiting the worst news you’ve ever awaited — the question creeps into your mind about how you can ever forge beyond those details your senses are absorbing in real-time. Nothing else outside those four, frigid walls appears as important. How could anything be that important? Nothing exists beyond those moments.
In all my decades alive and living, I would venture to say I’ve spent a full, collective year inside these spaces — not all for myself, but for others.
It’s a long enough arc of time for the doctors, nurses, aides, administrators, valets, and cleaning staff to…
