Sad Smiles

A year ago, I returned to New York from an amazing trip to Spain. A year ago also marks when I was hospitalized shortly after coming home due to contracting a bacterial infection overseas. It was a pretty traumatic experience, and one that I didn’t tell most people out of a fear that they’d think I was just seeking attention. However, there were also some parts which looking back, make me smile.

I talk about the worst of it first.

I went to a doctor’s office after being sick for a little while. Since I was out of the country a few days prior, and the Ebola fear was still in the air, I was sitting in the waiting room wearing a bright purple rain jacket and, under a secretary’s orders, a huge surgical mask that was way too big for my head. Everyone in the waiting room was staring at me. All eyes were my way as I left too, holding a tub to vomit in, running for the car. A very memorable time.

My resting heart rate was way too fast and my fingers were purple from dehydration, and no one in the emergency room could really figure out what was wrong with me, so I was admitted into the pediatric center, being 16 at the time.

My experience? Well, I don’t remember much but what I can recall is about a thousand different people saying “So you were in Spain? How was it?” and a thousand more saying “I can’t seem to find a vein” while pocking me with needles.

It took an ultrasound, something that made me feel extremely uncomfortable and awkward, a CT scan, something that forced me to drink this nasty dye liquid, and a line of 3rd year residents staring intently at me like I was an orangutan at a zoo, to figure out what was wrong with me. A bacterial infection.

The diagnosis wasn’t very promising either, since it seemed like every hour a different resident trying their best to mimic bedside manner told me that infections like mine seen in other cases have shut down kidneys, and that if I have renal failure right now, I’ll probably die.

IMG_4592
I became good friends with the IV pole. We did everything together.

Being in the pediatric center, I also had this woman who would come in and try and cheer me up, or something. She’d constantly try to get me to go into the playroom, like she was a cashier coaxing me into signing up for the discount card. “We have a Wii” she said. “I feel like shit” my eyes would reply. The only way I could seem to make her go away was agreeing to a stack of crossword puzzles and word searches.

These word searches would make me smile, however; just for a different reason.

I was given a pencil, obviously, and when I got bored of finding the profane words in the jumbles for hours, I started doodling and writing on the backs of the papers. I did some of my personal comic strip ‘The problematic situation’, and some of trees. I wrote some jargon extensively. All I had was time.

But I also wrote a poem. It was during this interesting time in my life, and not just because I was being forced by every technician to re-account all my time in Spain, or have dozens of needles stuck in me, but it was interesting for, you know, personal reasons. So I wrote this poem. And that’s all I was going to share on this blog post, but it needed context, and the actual context is nothing more than my shy, awkwardness at the time this was written.

Here it is:

Hospital poem.jpg
I can be a pretty nervous person, with real life interactions and witty text messages.

So, that’s my story of the time I was in a hospital, thought I was going to die, got slightly better, and wrote a poem. Things have definitely changed in a year, and looking back I feel sad and smiley at the same time. However, as great as 2015 was, I’m in a place where looking forward is in my best interests. Perhaps in a year this blog post will be nothing more than a sad, smiley piece of nostalgia as well.

 

Explosion

I had a dream;

I don’t think it meant anything;

It was in black and white.

/

There was a bomb.

And everything it destroyed

Turned into acidic rays of colour.

/

I was looking out a window

And had watched the plane fall

Before the black shell reached its destination.

Beige

I’m starting to feel sick again.

It isn’t the gooey darkness in my heart, no, now

It is beige like a balance beam.

I’m teetering on the edge of the cliff, this time

I’m close to falling, unlikely to fully regain stability.

It’s just who I am; been this way awhile now.

It’s just something I deal with, once in a while

I’m within the inebriated beigeness so I sit and ponder some.

I’m lost in the swirling complexities that could be.

It’s without reason that I drown in sand, breath in water, and

It’s without reason I respire, only half alive.

I’m alive, my heart beats with every unfair rhythm, and

I’m breathing, just under the pressure of the sand.

It’s with thoughts that I find small treatment, only treatment, as

It’s far from being a curable ailment.

I’m on a balance beam, and this time, it is foggy, this time,

I’m not sure I’ll stay beige.

Everything is bland, unflavored. Everything is beige and feels like sandpaper. I’m not here… I am floating somewhere else, somewhere dark and beige and lifeless. I don’t like it here. It hurts my chest.

-Excerpt from Solomon, a novel by Kylie Eileen

You can read Solomon here

Autumn’s Rapport

The season everyone seems to adore

Is left dead in a comparison war.

For when leaves begin to fall

No one can tally the total all

Detrimental succession

Of my overall impression

Of your rapport.

Nothing in Autumn comes as green

As your smiling scene.

For when leaves begin to fall

Short days make time stall

And it’s never my desire

With you to retire

Because that would be obscene.

(Unless, of course, I can implore

Another usual Sunday tour).

Reticence- A Poem

I have so many words I want to say.

But it isn’t that easy

And I want to tell you what I feel

And what I think

But the world can’t let that happen.

You are you, and I am me.

And silence is a force of strings

That loosely binds us to common ground.

My mouth opens but is slipped shut by society.

And my heart deepens in my chest

And I want to stop breathing.

My mouth is open and no air comes in

And my hands start moving

They’re out of control.

You are you so you look at me.

And your eyes are waiting for me to speak.

I want to tell you what I am thinking

What I am thinking is not anything important

And I will not change the future.

Our fixed time stops while you wait

And our fixed time tightens and the strings shake.

I have so many things to say.

I have so many words I’d like to speak.

Sadly now everyone is waiting, not just you.

And now I’m looking down into the swirling world below me.

It shouldn’t be this way, but the world has let this happen.

So I close my mouth

My words don’t matter.

I will not speak today.

I will breathe again and have the pressure slowly fade.

My hands stop moving and my mind is not shaking

And you are you so you understand.

And you move your eyes away

As the fixed time moves onward again

And I am me so I just nod my head

Because even though I have so many things I want to say

I know I can always write them.

And I have so many things to write.

And when I write, the world is not watching.

And when I write, the air is not thick.

And you are still you, so you still understand.

The strings that tied me down are dissolved.

My chest is not full of the gray fuzzy substance

My airway is clear, and I do not have to speak.

What is on my mind is soberly escaping.

I want to tell you what I feel

What I think.

Just talk. However if you mess up, everyone will remember forever and you should probably consider never speaking ever again.
“Just talk. However if you mess up, everyone will remember forever and you should probably consider never speaking ever again. On the second thought, you shouldn’t even open your mouth; what you have to say isn’t even worth the oxygen.”      -My thoughts everyday