When you Spend the Weekend in Emerg, the Weekend Isn't fun.

There were always crabs waiting in the sand, salt ready to lick our faces and sea onions, thick and prepared for battle.

Us kids, we were shameless: too many summer afternoons were wasted running into those waves, laughing. We'd dare them over and over to push against our bodies, not tiring as we'd wobble to and fro against their strength. But then, we liked to wobble a little, our feet sucked over by that wet sand.

Oh, and sometimes we'd fall, of course. I remember that there were always seaweed pieces left wrapped around our limbs afterwards, though. Gifts, we'd say. We were young then.

I am older now and I too, see myself in pieces. These body parts appear disconnected from each other, labeled with scientific understanding and terms I do not fully grasp. Doctors talk about me. I hear them outside my room even now. I wonder if I've become a pin-cushion, a specimen to be pushed along, wobbling to live just a little longer. I am weary.* 

 

 

*I never did get the test done that I was supposed to get done. After seven hours waiting in emergency, I was sent home only to be asked to return the next morning at 7:30am for a dye test (to see if the neph tube was blocked). When I returned the next day, it was decided that the nephrostomy tube would just be replaced, as it had been in for over six months anyway. While I did not want to undergo the procedure to change the tube, it seemed like the prudent choice. I can now say that I am the proud owner of a new nephrostomy tube, and it is working well. 

I am also glad to report that the surgical team who performed the procedure were exceedingly compassionate and went out of their way to be kind towards me. Thank you, nephrostomy team.