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.