Friday, December 31, 2010
Monday, December 27, 2010
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
“it’s just anxiety,” they say. “i feel like being sick too.”
i don’t know. not even your rainbow pills can help me now.
but i have to get up. i have an exam to sit in two hours time. i have to will the monsters not to crawl up my throat, spill out my unwilling mouth.
i have to stop my racing heart, tachycardic beats which get more random by the second.
i have to be strong.
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Monday, October 25, 2010
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Monday, September 27, 2010
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Friday, September 10, 2010
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Friday, August 27, 2010
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Friday, July 23, 2010
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Saturday, July 3, 2010
day 2: i learn how to change a patient’s oxygen, run hospital beds into walls and that second year students can only boss first year students if they actually know more.
day 3: i learn that midnight comes much slower when you are sitting down, that hospitals are not always busy and that the young security guard in the front office is a flirt (but i don't mind).
day 4: i learn that some babies are born so tiny that you can almost see through their blue-grey skin and that they can break if you just look at them.
day 5: i learn not to wear my blue bracelet, to put on yellow infection gowns and gloves and masks, and that i must not cringe when i see a patient with serious head injuries on the table in the resuscitation room.
day 6: i learn that there is a ghost in the elevator shaft on the ground floor. for some reason this realisation does not scare me.
day 7: i learn just how fast you have to run for a cup when someone says, "i'm going to be sick."
at the end of the week i learn that i am glad to be alive.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Thursday, June 17, 2010
in the night i wake up. samurai are sticking my belly with their razors. i can’t talk, i can’t breathe, i can’t think. it takes an eternity for my hand to find the light. another eternity to turn it on.
i can’t move.
my pills call me from the bag on the floor. it takes all my willpower not to pass out when i get up. i find them – sweet sweet magic pills, but then i can’t get back to bed.
the fire traps me.
in three years time i lie down again. the pain has been going on for
days/my whole life/too long.
i try to pray but all that comes out is ‘stop the pain’ and then my next thought (irrationally) is:
‘how could anybody ever have children? this pain is bad enough.’
i'm sure it’s hardly comparable, but your brain doesn’t exactly work right when you are so in pain that you can’t feel anything.
i am swept away on a tidal wave into the darkness.
in the morning the waves wash me back up on the shore.