My husband was away for the weekend and I quickly dropped to the floor- sick. I’ve never had to parent sick before, it’s a gawdafull mess. I guess no one speaks about the horror of crawling around on your hands and knees trying to get french fries cooked so they can watch 3 more hours of TV while you moan, vomit, shit yourself and spit into a cup due to a bleeding throat- because why would you want to.
He came home. Saved. We went to the doctor. The lights needed to be dimmed. I could not lift my head. “A nasty case of septic tonsillitis” go home, sterilize everything you’ve touched, you are quarantined from the family for a week. Here are some T3’s, anti-nausea medication and a heavy dose of antibiotics. You should feel like you are not dying in 3-4 days.”
Relieved that I had an excuse to be such a crybaby I took to bed and the door was locked.
I was alone in my illness. I writhed. It felt like every bone in my body was broken. I shat the bed. Things were not getting better. So I took some Tylenol 3’s. This would help me sleep.
And then the change started. A choir positioned themselves outside my window. It was beautiful but was not helping me get rest. The bed began breathing. My eyes were closed but I could easily see through my eyelids (as one can) and the children came to visit and we chatted and then my dead mother came to check in on me and it was so wonderful to see her again. That damn choir. I took another T3. And now I could feel the blood moving throughout my body with its task to bring life to my organs and muscles and heart. My blood was flowing fast and strong, it was doing a very good job. It stopped at my spleen and gave it some extra time. My spleen was writhing a bit, as were my kidneys, not unpleasant, just making it hard to sleep. So I took another T3. I didn’t sleep that night. The choir was too loud, the blood too busy and I was being visited by so many guests I had to be cordial.
The next day I rested.
2nd night. I won’t let this get out of hand again. 2 T3’s right off the bat. La la land for me.
But then voices I couldn’t see started talking to me. And that fucking choir. It was beautiful, angelic even but I gotta get some sleep. I’m really, really tired.
So after rolling on the breath of the bed and following the inner workings of my body until 3 am I got up and I told my husband I was taking a cab to the hospital.
“They won’t stop talking to me. The bed won’t stop breathing; I need a quiet place to sleep.”
The cab came. I told him to take me to the hospital. He did. I have no idea which one, and at the front desk I told them my symptoms. “I have septic tonsillitis, there’s a choir following me and my buds back there won’t shut up. I just need some sleep.”
This did not worry her, she sent me to a waiting room and I waited. I waited for 3 and half hours. The lights were bright. Alarms were going off. The police were called for some “bad guy” and I lay there along with my friends, my bed and my music for one.
And then something happened.
A veil lifted. Golden sheets of particles started falling from the sky. The particles attached themselves to the table and chairs and I saw clearly how nothing is solid. Everything is made of particles. I could put my hand through that table if I wanted to but why would I bother their beautiful creation. I watched the sheets of golden particles fall like rain, in time to the choir and it was clear to me now. I was being gifted with an awakening. I’m not “hearing voices” the bed was not “acting strange” I am just seeing and feeling what is truly here all the time. My body is flesh and blood and bone and organs doing a miraculous job running me and what a relief that I don’t even tell them what to do. Just like the entire universe is doing around me. Doing it’s thing, making beauty and life function, with no need for guidance or interference.
Genius. Gorgeous. Absolute perfection. Awe.
So after a while of enjoying the truth of the universe I got up and told the night nurse that I could leave now. I was better. I was not “hallucinating” I was having an enlightening and I felt deeply safe in the world and wanted to return home.
“You are not allowed to leave” she responded harshly. “You are in a psychotic breakdown. You are now under our legal care. I will go get a wheelchair to take you to the psych ward.”
Funny that hearing voices is no cause for alarm but having an enlightening gets you committed.
So she went for the wheelchair and I ran.
I ran outside the hospital in the dead of night and like he was circling, waiting for the crazies to make their escape the cab pulled up and I jumped inside while it was still moving.
He took me home. Everyone was asleep. I crawled into bed. And I was overtaken.
I awoke at 4pm the next day to a phone call from my doctor. “So, you’re a runner?”
All I knew was that I would not be incarcerated for being on the edge. It’s a sacred place to be. It was what she showed me that I was protecting as much as myself.
“So. Are you allergic to codeine?” the doctor asked.
“Are you allergic to Morphine?”
“Oh. Well codeine splits into two morphine molecules in your body, so that explains the delusions and I suppose I didn’t mention that codeine has caffeine in it so not only were you stuffing yourself with speed, you were then reacting to a hallucination generated allergy.”
All good things to know beforehand.
I’m glad it happened. I think some of it was chemical induced “delusions” that reminded me how we all walk the fine line of “reality” and “the alternate.” This is good to be aware of.
But I do believe a veil lifted. In my state of exhaustion she felt I was open to seeing the pure make up of the universe. Moving intelligence, beauty, song and golden light.
Moving intelligence, beauty, song and golden light.
That brief window into the particles doing their necessary jobs, just as my blood knows to flow, an example of how useless and lucky I am to be here was the realest and sanest I’ve ever felt.
I’d been honoured. And I’d shit the bed any day to go back.