Monday, January 08, 2018
Day 10 of my recovery. Today, Day 11, I return to work. Day 14 I should be able to resume all normal activities: piano-playing, cat-fancying, boulder-hurling.
The suffering was illuminating. There were depths. Sleep was only a temporary respite. There were bouts of fever. The feeling that dominated all was of slow suffocation. Claustrophobia of being contained within my own body. My tongue was bruised like a raw strip of steak. my nose was no longer nose-shaped, it was a salad potato nestled between my bleary eyes.
I could breathe through my nose, despite the blood-soaked gauze. I could breathe through my mouth, despite the torn ragged tunnel collapse of cauterized tissue.
I could breathe, but it felt like I was stealing air. Like using a snorkel.
Now I'm back a work, wearing all black for some reason. Maybe I expect to start bleeding from my nose and throat, which can happen spontaneously for up to two months.
Or maybe I'm mourning being new.