All: My sisters closest childhood friend, sadly, recently got diagnosed with Leukemia. I want to share an incredible post that she wrote from the hospital...just so we dont forget what and who were riding for: Nothing new to report about how Im doing so I thought I would share what I am thinking. I was musing that I had always thought of a hospital as just a building. I had even been to one to give birth to my children. But now as a long stay patient I have learned that it is not a building but an alternate world, a netherworld of pain and sickness and suffering. All through my first night, one roommate was retching and another was begging God to stop the pain. The other night one my roommate (age 85) almost died, I woke to a commotion of people at her bedside but they were able to revive her. I got bumped from one CT scan because an urgent motorcycle accident victim took priority and I saw his agony and the agony of his wife. Im making it sound medieval, but it is actually a futuristic world of miraculous machines (I see my neighbor get dialysis and I see all her blood taken out of her body, cleaned and returned) and troops and troops of top notch professionals and other workers. Only these workers can travel between this netherworld and the real world. At times it was the real world that seemed unreal to me. I couldnt picture that there were people out there working and playing soccer and going to play and sending back dishes at restaurants. A friend said, to comfort me, that a friend of hers had been through this and afterwards it was just a blur. But I actually hope that I do not forget (writing it down will help with that) because I think I will be a more thoughtful person if I can remember always that this netherworld exists. In this netherworld my worst physical moment was when I was in isolation and not allowed to use the communal bathroom. So they set up a makeshift toilet for me with a bed pan on a wheelchair which sat inches from my breakfast tray. It was too hideous for words. My worst psychological moment was when I hallucinated that I was dying. I might be using the wrong word but it felt too real to be a dream. I was rushing through the universe at a terrifying rate of speed toward a white light (so it is true!), and all around me the universe was swirling with incredible colors like the northern lights but more colors and faster moving. I thought for sure that was it and I was so scared. Then I opened my eyes and found myself in my bed as usual and I was doing fine. During that period I often saw disturbing images as soon as I closed my eyes so I tried to teach myself that if I did not like what I was seeing I should just open my eyes and it worked. One time I saw a post-apocalyptic landscape of people fighting and foraging for food. There was a little girl there and she was so scared. I tried to help her by telling her just open your eyes. And as I said that my eyes opened and I realized I was in my bed and I had said those words aloud and my hand was outstretched as if I were reaching out to her. Upon reflection, I find this post is rather gloomy. But, as Stephen Fry (a British comedic writer) said to his editor when handing him his latest manuscript to read, Ive suffered for my art. Now its your turn. With love and gratitude, Manjusha (I wrote her back, and spoke of the ride. Hopefully it gives an extra little touch of encouragement:)
Posted on: Wed, 28 May 2014 06:51:00 +0000
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