Wednesday, July 6, 2016

Grateful for What I Have

I drop a paper towel in the bathroom, think about bending over to pick it up, then about grabbing it with my toes, but then I think better of both options and leave it where it is beside the trashcan. I feel a small stab of sadness at the realization that certain things I took pleasure in, like my prehensile toes, aren't going to be an option for a while, and maybe never again.

The guy in the other bed in the hospital room we share has been here three weeks, and might be here for several more, with something incredibly complicated and hard that causes him to make heart-rending sounds of pain whenever he has to move. He asks the nurse to just wrap the IV cord tight around his neck to put him to sleep, as something of a a joke, and she tells him it's not funny.

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