After returning for the second time in ten days to the Emergency Ward – this time for a different, no doubt nosocomial, ailment picked up during my first week in Hell – I have just been transferred from Surgery to Advanced Geriatrics ! A long ride on a gurney through subterranean tunnels. On the way in, I noticed, on the way out, a gurney bearing a coffin going in the opposite direction ! Settled into my new bedroom, brightly colored to comfort the moribund, I decided to relax with some classical music on my radio. It happened to be Saint-Saens’ “Danse Macabre” !! This ward will be the Terminus for many. You come here to die, or, with luck, to recover well enough to last a little longer.
I am, of course, confident that I’ll be out of here in a week or so. ALIVE ! I am not dying – though in a sense we all are. What I have can be cured (a urinary infection). But here death is all around me. It’s just a question of time. Mine, like yours, is running out. God could have made things different, but He didn’t, mainly because “I am who am” is not and never was.