Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Page 93 How Can No One FEEL This?

This is an absolutely true story

As I may or may not say to the Lord on Judgment Day, "You ask a lot of questions for someone who has so much explaining to do." ~Robert Brault,

The day had turned dark and a lusty wind was pushing cars around on the slick hot tar roadways of Houston. It was the middle of the day, but cars were already piling up. I glanced in the windows of these vessels making their way to their appointed rounds.

A young man with his seat so far back I couldn’t understand how he was maneuvering the fairways, his hand tap tap tapping on the steering wheel.

Another car – a mother, or caretaker glancing in her rearview mirror seemingly singing as she watched the toddler in the back smearing god knows what on the window.

I watched a trucker, high above us all trying to make his way tentatively thru the mass and I wondered…I wondered how everything could be so ok to them.

What are they thinking? Where are they going? Don’t they know? Don’t they see? Something terrible has entered our lives; it rode in seemingly on a breeze and dug its claws into a bright star, threatening to create a nova that would swallow us up like a black hole.

And like that black hole, we had no idea what was on that event horizon and if any of us would ever be the same.

No one cared. The cars drove by, cigarettes being flicked out of windows, young people reclining so low in their cars you could only see their knuckles banging music without a care. Cell phones to ears, McMuffins to mouths, passengers reading papers. Don’t they know? The world had come to a halt for me and now all that was left was to be extinguished or fall into space. Nothing else seemed possible. I wondered about the dreamers. So safe in thought… The only reason people get lost in thought is because it's unfamiliar territory.

I had just left the hospital where Bootsie’s family met to offer support to her while she underwent invasive surgery to find out exactly what the issue was that made her so sick.

I had stopped to get something to eat, and then drop off a disc of drawings at A&E Reprographics. I was one of their best customers, so it was always personal with them. Pat Gremillion met me going up the stars to the cad department. He tried to engage me in conversation, but immediately recognized I was pre-occupied. He asked if there was anything he could do. I assured him, it was something outside his scope and finished my business and left. It had been 3 hours since I was at the hospital. I thought about calling, but didn’t get the chance.

My cellphone rang:

“Dianne, where are you, I have been trying to call."

Not unusual Willie did this daily from around 11am to 2pm. Not to worry, nothing up with her.

“I was at the hospital” I responded flatly!”

I didn’t have it in me to listen to her complain about her job and coworkers. All that crap seemed so inconsequential because…it is. She always relied on me to give a supportive ear. Well not today. They were all healthy and alive.

“At the hospital ...?” She didn’t sound too awfully concerned.

“Yes, I went to see Bootsie.” Before Willie could get a word in, “She wasn’t lying Willie, she is sick. I think she is very sick”

I explained about Bootsie’s family being there enmass and the operation she was going to undergo. Bootsie had an irregular colonoscopy. Possible colon cancer. Willie tried to impart any knowledge she had on the subject. But the mechanics of it all didn’t quite matter.

Willie wasn’t angry and promised to be home soon.

After I hung up from her, I called the hospital where Bootsie should be getting out of surgery. They forwarded the call directly to her room. She sounded very alert, and happy. Thank goodness. I could finally let out a breath.

“They cancelled my surgery.”


I was actually quite pleased, this sounded like good news. But alas it wasn’t.

They had postponed it for the following day. When I got home I didn’t much feel like working. I wanted to forget everything I just found out, but Facts do not cease to exist because they are ignored. I had been on a project that I could complete at home. I made my own hours. But Willie expected a lot from me. I was her wife and she expected me to act as such. She reveled in the fact that she could come home, her cloths washed, and the house clean and meals cooked. But I didn’t much feel like doing anything. I ordered Chinese.

When Willie got home I told her about the postponement. She decided to take the next day off and we would go to the hospital together. That was going to be quite an interesting endeavor.

Two of the cutest dykes in Houston, both lovers of mine, both haters of each other. And I was going to fix all of this.

I had to. It would only be with Willie’s blessing that I could continue being a part of Bootsie’s recovery. I actually felt as positive as a mother rabbit hoping that eagle is carrying her young out of harm’s way. Because I planned on being part of her recovery.

No comments:

Post a Comment