Monday, May 22, 2017

Keep Breathing

St. Louis Missouri Saturday May 20th and Sunday May 21st. 

Mormons don't believe in rosaries and repeated prayers. Yet in this moment I have two bamboo needles and move the stitches back from needle to the other. Knit. Purl. Knit. Purl. Knit. each stitch becomes a prayer. 

Knit: Stay alive. 
Purl: Stay here. 

Whoosh. Whomp. Goes the breathing machine. 

Purl: Keep breathing. 
Knit: Stay alive.  

A nurse comes in to check the blood sugar every hour. 132 from 937 the nurse comments much more manageable. 

Knit: I cannot cry. Must be strong. 
Purl: Keep breathing. Stay alive. 

The hours go by so fast and slow. Waiting for the grown up to to show up and tell me it's going to be okay. We are alone in a state where we know no one. 

Knit: How will I get you home? 
Purl: Keep breathing. Stay alive. 

Sitting out staring at the St. Louis Arch. The gateway to the west. 

Knit: If I could get you to the Arch I can get you home. 
Purl: Keep breathing. Stay alive.  

Another nurse asks if I need anything. I need you to wake up and tell me you are okay. 

Knit: All I know is that I'm breathing. 
Purl: Keep breathing. Stay alive. 

I find myself breathing in time with the breathing machine. As if each breath we breathe in tandem will somehow help you heal. 

Knit: The priest stops by to offer a blessing. I have no oil to give you one. I figure the lord will understand. 
Purl: Keep breathing. Stay alive. 

Your body twitches. Your face grimaces in pain. Just rest.
Another row. As if I keep knitting I can keep your story alive. 

Knit: The light fades. The Arch lights up showing the way home. 
Purl: Keep breathing. Stay alive. 

I find myself pulling the stitches apart in me to keep you whole. 

Knit: All I can do is keep breathing. 
Purl: Keep breathing. Stay alive. 

The door behind me opens. 

The grown up appears. The row is paused between two needles. At any moment the whole piece could unravel. 

Knit: I thought calling the grown ups and telling them you are here was the worst thing I had to do. Seeing the grown up face absorb all the details. All the tubing all the cables crossing and tangled to keep you alive. 

Purl: Keep breathing. Stay alive. 

The grown up whispers I'm here. 

The needles stop moving the stitches they are all on one needle. Time to pack them away. Prayers will have to be said on the inside. The conversation is short. 

The doctor appears. The doctors explains. The grown up takes in all the details. 

I stay for forty-five minutes longer sitting in the silence. The occasional whoomp. whosh. 

My phone buzzes. It's time to go. I have to go. The grown up understands. I say the words I'm sorry. Keep me posted. 

I walk down the hall to the elevator. 






1 comment:

  1. Oh Blake I'm not sure what's going on but I'm so sorry!!