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I’m here, waiting for a bloody prescription, typing on my phone when I could be typing at home, alone, in the quiet– so much on mind so much to consider for writing topics and direction but I know, I must practice what I preach– pick a topic, I always tell my students. Just read an article on cnn that archeologists found the preatorium, where Jesus was tried and the convicted by Pilate, according to legend. But I can’t write about that, I’m not religious, but I do find it interesting. People around me, feeling anxious. I hate it here. Hate it. This is how I stay sane and composed: just noting. The James Russell novel, written in head already, just need to translate. I’m too old to wish for or even seek other or new material. Just have to use my life right, what I see, and what I see, hear: the sick. Get me out of here! I can’t stand hospitals. I’ve done my time. What am I doing here? Calm, calm, meditate, don’t the outside in, I tell myself. Missing my son, he’s probably napping now, my little Artist and best friend.
My name, still not on the board. Baby crying, a newborn. Hate that sound, poor little thing… Why is this taking so long? Fucking corporate healthcare. They don’t care my health, time, day, being, what I have to do.. Devils. I remember in college, ssu, in my Phil 302 class, we talked about sickness, health, and how when you’re sick the only reality to focus on is getting well. That’s where I am. I’m notice thinking about the new semester or the QS novel or this project. I just want my antibiotics to kill this sinus issue and be on with my week. Doubt tomorrow will be as enjoyable as yesterday.
My name, still not on the board. I’m nearing madness, and not the type I admire, or strive for. The newborn coughs and sneezes.. I need a walk. I can’t stand its pain. Though it’s with its mother, I want to hold it, comfort it, which I just now learn is a 5weekold ‘she’. I’m rising, walking down the hall, escaping…..
But then when I rise my name flies to the board, “prescriptions ready for”… And I’m standing behind the lady and her sick baby. Why bloody me? I keep my distance, can’t look at the wee she. She coughs and I turn away. There goes my day, and I’m sure this environmental phantasm will stalk me back to the condo.. Damnit.
Still in line. After 1. There has to be a more efficient system for filling prescriptions than this. No wonder Mom hates Kaiser. The baby, right in front of me coughs.. Poor thing. This has ruined my day, without analysis I say that. My day is done, ruined. Could use another coffee. Or a beer at this juncture and point in the story. Ending the session still in line. Hating Kaiser and everything keeping its fire breathing in practice.