Fri the 8th of May – New Arrival

Early this morning, Mara sneezed and her trump flew out! There is no way that thing is going back in. Only, the nurses don’t know this yet. As we speak, Mara is carefully crafting a “cunning” plan to secure a trump free existence. She calls me and tells me what happened. “Oh no Mar. I’m so sorry. I guess they’ll have to put it back in”. As always, when Mar’s passionate about anything, she naturally reverts to French: “Ah Non! Faut arreter le delire” (this madness must stop). I suppress a smile. Mara is practicing her next move with her most authoritative tone on me. Later that morning, she explains what happened to a male nurse. She insists that it is useless to put the tube back in. Her oesophagus (not from a Greek Tragedy) still suffers and it’s just too uncomfortable. The nurse says he will reinsert it this afternoon. Mara looks at him and says: “No, you will not reinsert it this afternoon….”A few moments later, Dad receives a text. She is rid of the tube. Her Jedi mind trick worked! The doctors, on their daily rounds, were informed and most probably decided to give in as long as Mara ate properly. Here’s to the little triumphs in life (as long as our headstrong Mara eats).

Mara has always been subversive when it comes to Facebook. It’s a matter of principle. An invasion of a person’s privacy. However, these days, looking into people’s lives through their pictures, offers a small escape from her present reality. Her views on the matter of FB may have softened. Just a little bit. She still refuses to create her own profile but will no longer feign indifference when I access mine. She has always been very discreet about her private life and so while in the beginning she had her reservations about The Blog, she is now curious and supportive of it. Because, says she, with yet another smart ass remark: “how else will I read about myself?”

At the end of my visit, I leave through that ONE door with that ONE key. There is an internal waiting/changing room that leads to it. As I open the door to this area, I witness the arrival of a new patient. Her personal belongings are in a plastic bag and she is wearing the hospital pajamas. She has shoulder length hair and seems Mar’s age. While she dries her hair in the bathroom, she talks to her family. They are all wearing that hideous green quarantine outfit. Before the nurse ushers me out, I catch a glimpse of a man I assume is her father. I know the look in his eyes all too well. The look of a terrified deer caught in the headlights. It’s the same look I had last year. I recognize this scene. The one in which the patient desperately wants to protect her family by acting very strong, pretending that all this is normal. As if she does it every day and isn’t really going to the Hospital but rather is preparing for a trip somewhere nice. Perhaps there is also an element of self preservation in which she denies her new Reality. Mara even said: “Don’t worry Paulita. I’ll be out of here in 4 weeks!” This was last November.