Tuesday, September 22, 2009
man of steel
I walk in and it looks like a crime scene. Blood everywhere. On the floor, soaking the pillow that hangs over the green chair, blossoming on the sheet underneath him. I keep my cool and smile at him. He is reclining, his left arm slung over his head and he speaks. Dear God, why has this happened. I tell him how impressed I am with his courage and then I start cleaning. Trying to get rid of the blood. What good are nurses if they won’t take care of their patients? And then a joke from him breaks my concentration. He’s laughing. He can’t not be a superman. I almost cry, not from pain but from pride. The same blood that’s been spilled all over this room also runs through my veins. I smile with him.