A meander of thoughts

T-8 - Delhi

I'm afraid the precise day of the trip on which we're on is impossible for me to pin down as time seems to pass in a different manner inside the walls of a hospital. I have therefore resorted to using possible days until discharge. Any stay beyond a few days in these places sees the familiar structure of your normal life break down or, more aptly, decay. The only constants would seem to be the times at which drugs are administered. Sleep is fitful and disjointed but is infinitely better than if I were on a ward with its perpetual twilight, its dimmed quiet. I like the isolation of this room, when the doors are closed it is my kingdom and I order it as I fancy. Of course there are limits to my power imposed by a pantheon of higher beings beyond the door. But they check my actions for my own good, benevolent gods if you will. I feel an odd contentedness this morning but I'm loathe to trust a feeling of positivity without knowing from whence it sprung. Has my favourite nurse flashed me her restorative smile? No sign of her. Have housekeeping replaced my aged wheelchair with a jetpack and turned the balcony into a launchpad? No, it's against hospital policy to open the balcony doors. Perhaps I've simply derived pleasure from the simple? From the completion of my morning tasks? Waking, taking my pills, wrapping a fresh dhoti around my waist. Nothing dramatic. Eating my breakfast, reading the paper, attending to my 'donor' (as opposed to doner) leg and its scorched skin (see below). Even something as insignificant as a bit of tidying, ordering the items on my bedside table gives a feeling of control in a wider situation in which I have little. Curious adaptation that, do we all grasp for a sliver of control even when we are largely powerless? Does it help us to reassure ourselves that we still exist, that we are still relevant? I tidy, therefore I am? It brings to mind my last extended sojourn in a medical facility. I recall reveling in the wonderful simplicity of my life for that period. All around was fervour and impotent anguish but I basked in the uncomplicated imperative of survival. It is different this time, 6 years ago the world beyond those disinfected walls seemingly offered little to me, I felt ensconced and protected from it's cruel vicissitudes. Nowadays these walls restrain me, hold me back from the world's wondrous possibilities. It's the same view out of the window as it was back then but now it's a different person looking.


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