Friday, March 16, 2007

Days And Nights of The Scarlet Sponge






At work today, I could see sunlight coming through the skylight at around 2:30 PM, a neat way to not the lengthening of daylight, the passing of winter into spring. Not so at Holy Cross Hospital, my room had a window that faced the back end of the credit union on Lithuania Avenue, and for many days I could not even look at the bricks without the entire window moving like a metronome in my eyesight. Every day, Dr. Shaefer would check the three contusions above my right eye, there were countless MRIs, each proving my brain was still a scarlet sponge (my final breath, my sins expunge)and my arm could not be reattached. The bones, you know what I mean. I might bleed out on the operating table, a joke almost a decade later when my letterhead decreed I WILL FLATLINE BEFORE I GO ONLINE! I learned to dial the phone with my tongue between my teeth, and you really don't want to know how I improvised my pissing. No hands, big head. The throbbing in my head sounded like a washing machine full of sneakers. The photo of me in bed, ice around my arm to ease the burning, was taken on day 22. Mid-April, people on the outside scurrying to finish their taxes. I was on being fed Tylenol#3 every half hour and Demoral shots in my ass every two hours. I still regret to this day, that being so out of it, I never even knew the show COP ROCK had been on and cancelled within a few episodes. Many months later, I still bled at odd times, as the second photo shows (I always have disposable cameras at my, well, disposal, and had been taking photos for possible insurance purposes). I eventually had laser surgery into my brain, but that was later. This is sill Spring 1989. Finally, plates were put into my arm, those later broke, this will be in a future entry, and there was my first look at my withered arm, as they changed casts on day 65, before I went home. Page 243 rolled out of my Smith-Corona like an ancient scroll, the dust motes in the sunbeams like a plague.

4 comments:

Drizel said...

sjoe so gross!...ouchie.....

Charles Gramlich said...

Just the distortion of the time sense from being inside with no access to a decent window view must have been disturbing. Much less all the more horrific shit you were going through. Damn, man.

SQT said...

My God! All the crap your poor body has been through. It's a wonder you can sit and write for your blog.

RK Sterling said...

Dangit, Wayne, I'm starting to feel mugged every time I come over here. Shite.

My friend, I believe you are worthy of the title "Disaster Magnet." My elder brother held it for many years, but you've given him a run for his money.