I saw Patrick today.
I saw him.
He saw me.
He ran to me.
I saw him.
I felt him.
He was there.
We were there.
His smile.
His heart.
His heart.
His heart has gotten so much worse.
He is twice the size he was in April.
His liver is twice as big.
His kidneys are twice as fucked.
His organs will fail soon.
He is so much further, closer.
His smile.
I found out today that Patrick’s mother had 8 children. Four of them died the same way Patrick is going. And he knows. He knows. He watched them die before him. His regional hospital used to sing with him a song about heaven – about meeting your family and friends, of a better life. One day he asked why. Why were they singing this with him? Was he going to die? Singing about his own end. He knows.
He will die.
The world will never see his smile again.
He will die.
Leaving the hospital, I have never felt more helpless and useless and ashamed and unskilled and unworthy. I asked Egide what I should do. What should I do. Please. What should I do. And he told me this: We can only do what we can. You can't pay for what he needs. But you can come and see him, take care of him, make him laugh, bring him joy. That is what is going to change the world.
Thank you for getting me out of my own head, and helping me realize what I already knew. I love you.
Oh Caroline.
ReplyDeleteYou are breaking my heart.