“After Coffee with My Nurse Friend” by Nicelle DavisPosted by Timothy Green
AFTER COFFEE WITH MY NURSE FRIEND
The fat. It can’t hold stitches. She kept breaking open. Holes in her stomach pouring liquid. I gathered her in my arms like a load of laundry, stuffed into the MRI. She couldn’t speak. She’d communicate by blinking. Moving her eyes: left (pain) right (pain). Sadness doesn’t need words. I tried keeping eye contact as we pushed her (300 pounds) back onto the gurney, but her tears became mine. I had to look away.
Soul: A connection with the word sea, and from this evidence alone, it has been speculated that the early peoples believed that the spirits rest in water.
I told her husband she wouldn’t last the surgery. He said he needed a drink and a cheap hooker. I couldn’t tell if he was joking. I knew she had heard. I didn’t know if it was a joke. I said, we all have to cope somehow. She didn’t blink.
Immanuel Kant, Critique of Judgment: “Laughter is an effect that arises if a tense expectation is transformed into nothing.”
Her husband wasn’t at the surgery. She survived. I held her hand until the nurses’ bell rang. We can make a person live. When we called her home, no one answered. There are times I don’t know what we are saving each other from.