November 14, 2014

“There is nothing in my hotel room but the lines, an IV stand, and a heart monitor. If I unplug the monitor, a flatline alarm will sound and then pink-swathed nurses will come running with their fingers pushed deep into their ears. I unplugged the monitor three times last week, then stared at the nurses’ feet as they ran, thinking, Trip trip trip. None did. The nurses are graceful as ballerinas. They do a little dance around the hospital room, checking the monitors, taking my temperature, tucking blankets around my legs. I want to stick a leg out and watch them go flying into the IV stand but that wouldn’t be the polite and gracious thing to do.”


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