Wake. I’m on the ceiling looking down. And I watch. I watch Tina hover over bandages and tubes. This is the reconstruction project. I see tubes going into tubes – no, the second must be my arms, because I see lovely hands at the ends. I see most white/red fabric, like building tarps scattered around this City block. But I see fields, patches of what must be skin, all rippled, like water in an angry wind. And I watch with wonder as Tina takes cream from tubes and massage it gently to into these whipped areas to calm the waters. (I seriously suck at metaphors – field or pond? Field or pond?) If there’s a sound track here, its Wires…
I am awake all day I think, or all shift. Tina works on me for hours. I see her sit every hour. And rip off her plastic gloves. But head in hands and take deep breaths. And then she stands, grabs new gloves and begins again.
I see Harry, hand on her shoulder, walking around the City block, checking all the screens. I’ve decided I’m Times Square during all the construction to make it more ‘pedestrian.’ (Oddly appropriate pun here) I’m a City Block surrounded by screens. I am blessed to have Harry and Tina. They have given me these 100 days and I think them. I’ve not felt any pain, Tina. I’ve felt safe and protected Harry. And I’ve finally felt your hands and the good works they do….