Shot Clot: Reset

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. The heart monitor didn’t have a silent mode, neither did the automated IV pump.

In the movies, sitting on your death bed is always shown as this serene environment with dim mood lighting and family at the foot of the bed. Concerned attending and residents, reading over charts, furrowed brows peaking over dual focal progressive lenses like fuzzy caterpillars.

Well, it’s not. It’s loud, exacting, persistent, metered and repetitive; almost excruciatingly so.

The nitroglycerin they gave me to bring down my blood pressure had a funny side effect of making me super alert.

212/148

90 beats per minute 

96.3 degrees

95% saturation. 

Man, these socks are itchy, the lumpy back pillow is still misshapen. They were that kind of sanitarium white – that suggests they are clean but have obviously been used before. 

I ended up counting the tiles above my bed, approx 6x6 inches, twelve across, eighteen down. Off white in color. A mild tic-tac-toe board, interspersed with recessed fluorescent light. 

Thirty-six times.

Maybe I could get a room with LEDs.

Ouch, the phlebotomist poked me again. Twenty-two times in total. 

“Young man, you almost had a stroke this evening. You’ll be here till the weekend.”

I reached for my phone, typing out a short text with my left hand – free of an IV.

“Hey Mom, could you bring me my work computer? I’d like to shoot a few things off since I can’t go anywhere, I swear it helps my mind relax.”

She replied, with a head exploding emoji, “Absolutely f***ing not.”

…

“Stop always expecting your blessings to be financial or materialistic. God may have just added some time to your life instead.” ~Tim Karsliyev