I am on the cusp, the space between what is and what will be; the space of what is and what is promised. Here, there is hope for what might come my way. The thing with hope, sometimes what is promised doesn’t come to be. Sometimes life stalls out and we’re left holding the bag of some forlorn and sad-looking hope. Disappointment tends to follow. And yet, tomorrow, August 4th, is the day I can weight bear, putting my full weight on my right leg, allowing me to practice this wa

I am so tired. I am tired of sitting. I am tired of waiting. I am tired of the pity. I am tired of receiving. I am tired of the drudgery. I am tired of this boredom. I am tired of my moodiness. I am tired of this neck brace. I am tired of unseen sunsets. I am tired of these slow days. I am tired of having no purpose. I am tired of an undone to-do list. I am tired of being told to breathe. I am tired of being pushed around. I am tired of wanting to go nowhere. I am tired of no

On Thursday, I had my second post-op appointment pertaining to my pelvis and my right shoulder. This appointment is a full day’s commitment, driving from home to Harborview then back, with a Costco stop before arriving home. It’s not egregious, but full nonetheless. I’m seven weeks out from surgery. They did x-rays of my pelvis and shoulder. The pelvis is where it is supposed to be. The shoulder is still separated and is only getting more and more contracted. The human assess

First Note: It took me awhile to write the following. This is my experience with what I can only describe as depression. This is only my experience. Things got dark and it took me a moment to get through it and then to express it. All this to say, that things are brighter now, I am okay. We all say “One day at a time” and this rolls off the tongue with ease. Some of us even believe it. It can hold some sort of salvation, that this day will end, a bite-sized living, something

Photo by Bonita Smith When we stood on that hill, The one overlooking that string Of mountains - snow-covered - In the spring, love on the air The Wedding Tree - Doesn’t even know it’s name - And you said, “I do.” Were you considering that One day you might receive A phone call, “I’m not okay?” You’d race to the trailhead And then, to the hospital Where we are reunited, But it is hard for me to see you My eyes, shifting left and right, My neck only allowing for the ceiling. D

I am sitting on the snow, my brain trying to make sense of where I am and this…alive-ness. Why am I alive? My brain cannot make the pieces fit, a puzzle for a different day. And yet, I am here, blinking, moving my arms and legs, albeit with a shocks of pain. Without choosing, these thoughts they come. I think back to Oliver’s leaving. I think back to Gordon’s, both people in our community so valued, so missed. Oliver was running until he wasn’t, his heart just stopped, so the

It would be reasonable to say that I dodged death, just escaping the long nap. The cost of this narrow escape is pricey - a helicopter ride, eight days in Harborview (three of those in ICU), surgery to my pelvis and spine, some recovery days on 7 East and then the PT’s blessing for me to go home having mastered my transfers from bed to wheelchair and back again, as long as I only use my left leg and arm. Easy peasy. I am in a timeout, self-inflicted, but a timeout nonetheless

It is my first morning home. Even without my noisy roommate my body comes into consciousness at 0311. Sleep was uncomfortable, but, despite the hour, it was better than I expected when I inched and moaned myself into bed. At 0400 I’ve had enough of my ceiling staring. Sleep has eluded me. I decide to get up, to wheel myself to the guest bathroom and expel my deeply amber urine - I can’t seem to catch up on my fluid intake. I transfer to the toilet, pee the longest pee, and I’

In the morning, the high of the ketamine is less high. It’s as if the knowledge of being on ketamine allows my brain to account for it, slowing my highest highs and bringing them into a more palatable gratitude.This morning my cheeks are dry, the tears absent. The bathroom, its door, and the clock above it are all back to their unremarkable beige. All is well and near baselines although it’s impossible to know how my reality is being altered with the drip, drip, drip of ketam

I am in a new room. I am surrounded by new-to-me people. I am awake and flying. Everything I feel reaches what can only be described as elation. And I have no pain. Not my hallucination, but AI's attempt. I do an assessment of my body. I am in no pain. I expected surgery to make things worse, to set me back, to aggravate the body’s pain and then let me heal. Instead, nothing. The C-collar is still in place, but I can sit up, no longer in full spinal precautions. I can move. A

Passing Time in Harborview's Trauma ICU NOTE: My recollection of events, when they happened and where, is sketchy at best. Kendra clarified and corrected some items, but I've largely left things as my brain remembers them, which is to say again, is not accurate. So this is the remembering. Most of it is true; some of it is accurate. I am a nurse. I graduated from Loma Linda University's School of Nursing in 2004. At that time, hospitals were desperate for nurses, warm bodies

I went for a walk in the woods, which would eventually take me from the woods to a mountaintop and then another, or at least this is the plan for the day. I’ve done this walk before and I am happy to be here, a mellow contentment over all of this. The sun is already up and it feels easy to tighten my laces, put on my pack, and leave the truck. It is 0517 and I am headed up. The summit is only two miles away, but climbs almost 3200 feet in that distance. This is a demanding, b

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