reaching, grasping, pulling at straws
They say that in a moment of peril, a person's life flashes before their eyes. Many doctors discredit this, and the 'white light' experience, as a sensory reaction to incredible pain. Your brain goes wild because it doesn't know what to do, how to react, what to think or feel. Panic ensues and all that you get is nerve endings firing and your brain running on overdrive as you gasp your final breaths.
Some people don't think it's real. Some people do. They claim to talk to God in their moment in limbo. Maybe they saw themselves there on the operating table, and got a shove back to life, a second chance at the end of a defib paddle and a shot of adrenaline to the heart. Regardless of what a person claims to see, what the doctors say, what the loved ones believe, what the priests and preachers want you to hear, it's an individual thing. You can be a sinner and see Jesus, or you can be a saint and see Satan opening the gates of hell.
I didn't see anything religious. I'm agnostic. Unless I cure someone like the Pope or Mother Teresa (though you can't cure death so that might be difficult), I'm gonna end up in a nice apartment off of Brimstone Way and the River Styx. Now, I'm not saying I want to be sent to hell, but come on, this is me we're talking about. I've been affectionately called the anti-christ.
Why I'm on religion I don't know. I'm rambling. But I guess it's because to me, this is a time of peril.
When I get up in the morning, my leg hurts. It's a fact of life that I can get a Vicodin in me before I hit the floor some days. I'm used to this. But this hurts a lot. This is a different kind of pain. I did an MRI. The problem is, the nerves aren't regenerating. This isn't a healing pain. But nothing looks any worse.
It's not in my head. Wilson, don't start that shit with me, or I'll cane your ass a second time. Cuddy, you too, only, I won't cane you, because you'll kick my ass to next week's clinic duty. This isn't in my head. This is real. I think after ten years of chronic pain, I would know what pain I can work through and what pain requires a stiffer dose of medication.
Which, for that, Emma, thanks. I don't think I need to verbalize what this means to me, I'm sure you can just figure it out yourself.
But back to my point. Is this it? Is this the moment I've been fearing for ten years? The spiral that starts with a bit of pain and ends it all in a blaze of painkillers and bleach-white walls? I don't want to be laid up again. I don't want more surgery that removes more muscle. I sure as hell don't want to lose the leg entirely. I like my leg. I've had it my whole life.
On the other hand, I nearly died the last time this happened. I did die, for a minute there, technically. And I don't want to put my wife through that. I don't want to put her through that. The stress isn't good for her, and it's not good for the spawn.
Speaking of Spawn Watch, we're at 14 weeks, and a day. To be out of the first trimester is a relief in itself, and while I'm a doctor and know the risks, know the possibility for complications, while I know everything that could go wrong...I'm also an expectant father. Each day is one day closer to holding my son or daughter in my arms, and I won't let my fears get me down. We don't know a lot of things, like the sex or names or even what the hell we're going to do about the nursery but we've got time. 181 days and counting. I swear, that tickerbar in her profile is going to drive me crazy, it's not like refreshing it will make it change and count down. I'm excited and scared and a hundred other things that I can't even begin to process, but you know what, that's normal. And okay.
We heard the heartbeat last week too. That was...cool. I don't really know how to explain it other than cool.
It's getting late. Sort of. This case isn't getting solved any faster (15 year old supermodel getting diddled by daddy) and I have an urge for the enchiladas from Don Carlos down the block, I think a dinner break is in order.
Now, if I can just stop playing Sudoku long enough to call in my order, we'll be set.
I'm working. I swear.