2:48 A.M.
I’mbackwhereIstarted.BackintheICU.Mybody,thatis.I’vebeensittinghereallalong,tootiredtomove.IwishIcouldgotosleep.Iwishtherewassomekindofanesthesiaforme,oratleastsomethingtomaketheworldshutup.Iwanttobelikemybody,quietandlifeless,puttyinsomeoneelse’shands.Idon’thavetheenergyforthisdecision.Idon’twantthisanymore.Isayitoutloud.Idon’twantthis.IlookaroundtheICU,feelingkindofridiculous.Idoubtalltheothermessed-uppeopleinthewardareexactlythrilledtobehere,either.
Mybodywasn’tgonefromtheICUfortoolong.Afewhoursforsurgery.Sometimeintherecoveryroom.Idon’tknowexactlywhat’shappenedtome,andforthefirsttimetoday,Idon’treallycare.Ishouldn’thavetocare.Ishouldn’thavetoworkthishard.Irealizenowthatdyingiseasy.Livingishard.
I’mbackontheventilator,andonceagainthere’stapeovermyeyes.Istilldon’tunderstandthetape.ArethedoctorsafraidthatI’llwakeupmid-surgeryandbehorrifiedbythescalpelsorblood?Asifthosethingscouldfazemenow.Twonurses,theoneassignedtomeandNurseRamirez,comeovertomybedandcheckallmymonitors.Theycalloutachorusofnumbersthatareasfamiliartomenowasmyownname:BP,pulseox,respiratoryrate.NurseRamirezlookslikeanentirelydifferentpersonfromtheonewhoarrivedhereyesterdayafternoon.Themakeuphasallrubbedoffandherhairisflat.Shelookslikeshecouldsleepstandingup.Hershiftmustbeoversoon.
