There is an odd stasis about hospital time.
Especially when you mark every hour on the clock by when you get your next pain medication.
Get something that makes you too sleepy and you wake up in agony. Then it takes hours of white knuckled grit your teeth and moan before you can "get back ahead" of the pain.
It doesn't seem odd to be recording your thoughs at 2:00 am because everything else is just as odd or odder.
You find yourself shameless about throwing back the sheets for the tenth person to move your catheter or drain a bag of blood sewn against your skin.
And none of it matters provided you always, always stay ahead of the pain.
You lie in the bed in the dark and breath into your backwards breathalizer to keep from getting clots in your lungs and get amused that as slow as texting your thougts might be, it is still infintely less aggravating than trying to fix whatever nonsense the voice command sentences come up with.
You think about how all of life had come down to and always comes down to the moments of staying ahead of the pain.
And you vaguely try to grab whole of the C.S. Lewis quote.. . God whispers to us in our pleasures but shouts to us in our pain.
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