October 5, 2007
Getting stuck in room number 123
When you're sick and weak, you forget everything. Or, your mind's disoriented and you want to talk to get a sense of order but even your voice is too tired to work its way out your mouth. All you'll remember after you've regained strength is that you were in a very loose, white t-shirt and very loose, red cotton shorts and you had to bury yourself deep in the sheets because there's that smell that makes you think of expired shampoo.
A friend may take a picture of your hand, and name the photo "pricked."
Your mother will have to give you a sponge bath.
You will have to put up with cable TV and surprise yourself while sighing over Audrey Hepburn's old films.
A cute, resident doctor in eyeglasses will make you want to break the rules so you can take a decent bath and be proper for the 'early morning visits.'
You will calculate how much money you still owe your mother from the hospital bills.
You will think how odd it is that you are reminded of a hotel room. Only that the door is never locked and nurses will come in uninvited every now and then.
This reminds you that four days in a hospital and another four days of home-rest is not at all charming.
So, you now try to eat on time even if you don't feel hungry at all.
You now listen when your head tells you it's time to sleep.
And, for the theatrics of it, you change your nail color to platinum white.