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Odin odin@aflx.com, click here
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You have to wonder about moments most may never have to face. (A Flash Fiction exploration)
More Time…
It might rain tomorrow. Rain comes in three sizes, you know. Drizzle, shower, and storm. Somewhere in there time hangs suspended. That’s how I see it. How I love it.
Then there’s “what to do,” depending on the size. Drizzle tends to bring out the quiet in me. So, I write. Showers usually ask I take a few deep breaths, smell the freshened earth, give some thanks. You know. Kinda just sit there and be.
Now storms… they’re something else. Troubling sometimes. They can get feisty and not know when to stop. Kinda like arguments that just keep getting louder. You know what I’m talking about?
Looking out my window, I can see the horizon darkening. What is it they say: anticipation is greater than reality? Works for me. Don’t need any more reality. These tubes hooked up to me do just fine in that department. Stupid facts. You know what I mean.
Damn. That’s getting dark outside. Room clock on the wall says 4:30. About time for the nurse to change the collection bag. Catheters have got to be the most miserable piece of medical crap around, you know? But, at least it takes care of things… for a while. Speaking of which, I…
Damn, was that lightening? Lit up my whole damn…
Oh shit…
Oh my. That sound. That tone just hangin’ there… that flat-line monotone …
C’mon.
Just a little more drizzle.
Just a couple of showers.
Just a little more time.
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Since 1992, catheters (external) have been my friend (and enemy). It is actually a relief not to have to worry about doing number two when you are in a staff meeting or in the middle of traffic on the freeway and there's no way to get off to a nasty service station john to pee. While I have had many urine phobic people refuse to empty my bag, I never had a case of one breaking because it wasn't emptied in time. On the other hand, I've had the catheter seal break many times requiring emergency measures of great anxiety. Still trying not to wear one.
Internal catheters like the one described in your story are standard operating procedure for hospitals. The only place that I get them. Try to stay out of hospitals… People die there.
Ron
Love ya!
Jane