Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Rose #3 - The Original Unit

The searing pain that ripped through my knee birthed out a screech the likes of which I didn't even know I was capable. This was no playground yelp; this was a visceral, dirty, deep down in the gut, throaty howl - the kind that could only be motivated by something like buckets of ice and water being thrown onto raw flesh. Raw flesh exposing my knee cap.

"Your kids can hear you."

Guilt.

Tears.

Impaired judgment: "Can't you move them into another room further down the hall?"

More tears.

Lots of explaining that no, we're in the ER, remember? And won't I just let them put me under?

"No, what if they die? What if I die? No. No. Just give me a towel n' I'll fuckin' bite down on it."

My aunt holding my hand, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Suddenly I'm being rolled down the hallway, a doctor explaining to me that I no longer have the choice, it's not just about my knee anymore, my liver is bleeding and my spleen wants to fall apart. They need to open me up and "explore" to make sure my pancreas isn't crushed. Not to worry, my youngest will be in the O.R. next to mine.

I don't comprehend this.

The next thing I know I'm in a different bed with a belly full of stitches, a vacuum pump holding my knee together, and a tube up my nose. The room is dimly lit and I think I'm dreaming.

"All of you at once?" I ask not believing my eyes.

There before me stood my most original unit: my mom, my dad, and my older brother. A clan of people I hadn't been in the same room with at the same time since my parents' divorce - 28 years earlier.

"Are you all actually here?"

A rose...

14 comments:

  1. Every post you write leaves me wanting to know more.

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    1. Awesome! :) Very excited to have you as a reader.

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  2. Wow, great writing. The beginning hooks you in and the end leaves you wanting to know what happens next.

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    1. Thanks a lot! :) That means a lot coming from you - I find your writing to be excellent!

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  3. Definitely a rose. I was in the hospital for a week when I was 13 and the only thing that made me feel normal and okay was having my family around me. Love the writing.

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    1. Thank you :) It's funny how a bad situation can be the cause of such joy. I hadn't been with the 3 of them at the same time in almost 3 decades. I'm still smiling about it...especially because they agreed to all come up again together to visit now that I'm healed. I can't wait! There's just nothing like spending time with the people who knew you first.

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  4. Great writing, it sounds like theres a lot a meaning in your posts

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    1. Thanks very much for the compliment, there definitely is. The whole ordeal was pretty scary and writing about it is helping me to make sense of it all.

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  5. Wow. This is so visceral filled with emotion. You have real talent as a writer.

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  6. You know how much I love your writing Sassy; that goes without saying. But can I be the one to point out that it looks like the little girl in your graphic is missing a leg? Everyone else has two very well defined legs, and then there's her...

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  7. LOL! I didn't notice that but I guess since my leg was bunk during this post it's fitting. :)

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