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.

RIDENDA   RELIGIO

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