05/10/2007
I have found myself counting the days again. I am supposed to be better and yet my outlook calendar at work has two date marked this month. One is the day I should get a response from the hospital to my last letter regarding my ongoing complaint that they gave me harmful and unnecessary medication. The other is a letter from my solicitor regarding the independant surgical review from the first of the two hospitals, the one that left me to die.
Tom cringes when I tell him that this is the first thought on my mind in the morning and the last at night most nights. He apparently can choose what he dreams about. Is life really that simple? Am I choosing to hurt myself and relive the hardest moments nightly? Why would I?
I find myself working through the legal and medical arguments, that link each hour of my hospital stays I find myself crying over the pointless futility of a fight against a hospital with its own legal team and just me. David and Goliath. Only I have no slingshot and this is for real.
My dreams are of snow. Walking bear foot in the crunching fresh snow trying to keep up with my family who walk far faster than me, wrapped warm in their winter coats. Only it isn't winter in my dream and I am supposed to be somewhere but I can't remember where and I know I am letting everyone down.
Not a scary dream, just sad. Better than dreams of sharks and midnight chases; hospitals; rogue surgeons and relentless storms on the beach but they keep me awake and puzzled. I search for meanings rather than sleep, my morning eyes are evidence of this but he doesn't seem to notice. far safer than talking about feelings and treading the same story arc again and again.
Tom cringes when I tell him that this is the first thought on my mind in the morning and the last at night most nights. He apparently can choose what he dreams about. Is life really that simple? Am I choosing to hurt myself and relive the hardest moments nightly? Why would I?
I find myself working through the legal and medical arguments, that link each hour of my hospital stays I find myself crying over the pointless futility of a fight against a hospital with its own legal team and just me. David and Goliath. Only I have no slingshot and this is for real.
My dreams are of snow. Walking bear foot in the crunching fresh snow trying to keep up with my family who walk far faster than me, wrapped warm in their winter coats. Only it isn't winter in my dream and I am supposed to be somewhere but I can't remember where and I know I am letting everyone down.
Not a scary dream, just sad. Better than dreams of sharks and midnight chases; hospitals; rogue surgeons and relentless storms on the beach but they keep me awake and puzzled. I search for meanings rather than sleep, my morning eyes are evidence of this but he doesn't seem to notice. far safer than talking about feelings and treading the same story arc again and again.
posted by stunted at 1:53 AM
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