Thursday, October 05, 2006
My Green Mile
Typically, the Green mile is the stretch a person takes on their way to the execution room...or place or whatever…Mine, it’s the stretch I have to take on my way to the clinic to go through what Darlkom feels comfortable calling “that which we may not mention”. The rest of you can join me in calling it The Thing…
Yesterday I took the Green Mile. I was not excited about it. In fact I was properly frightened. Yes, I know, it’s a very unattractive quality in a guy, being afraid and all but sod it! This stuff freaks out EVERYONE. It’s not the sort of thing you’d wish for someone, not even that kid in fifth grade that broke your oh-so-cool pen after you’d pointed out that it was a gift from my mum and that she would not be pleased if I went back home without it. Damn you, Janet! You just couldn’t settle for the bloody bic, could you?!!
So anyway, I kept stalling. And by stalling I mean the usual routine of playing video games with the prerequisite amount of blood and gore that we all love to see splash all over the screen provided, of course that it’s a game and not some other viral video from Iraq with some guy’s neck being cut off. I’d tried watching movies, but that didn’t quite cut it. Then again, it could be because I was watching House and the sight of needles makes my heart pack its bags and make its annual trip up my throat.
My friend Paul called me up and asked me whether I’d made it to the clinic and I glanced at my watch before fashioning an excuse…
“Man, I couldn’t make it. I . . . look at the time man…”
He wasn’t buying this routine and told me he would give me a push. Resigned, I hang up, dropped my control pad and got ready for the Green Mile…
Incidentally, Paul, if you happen to read this, I am calling your motive(s) into question. I am not buying the whole “it’s a birthday gift” angle.
-“what the heck?! This rash…it…it’s an STD isn’t it?”
-“oh that, yeah, it probably is…Happy anniversary sweetie!
Back to the piece already in progress…
So began my descent to the clinic. Nervous laughter permeated the air and my heart was slowly setting up long term plans of residence in a new locale.
As luck would have it, the doctor wasn’t there. At this point all I knew was it would be a lady. I looked at the time and asked the nurse whether she honestly believed…in her heart of hearts… that the doctor would make it. She said she would have called ahead if she couldn’t… (Bugger!)
I took a walk down to an internet café in an attempt to prolong the inevitable. It was probably the same thing as the last meal by a death row inmate…
After the meal was over we went back to the clinic and found that the nurse had a new face…sorry, there was a new face sitting with the nurse (my oh-snap moment!). Thing is, she looked a little un-doctor like…I’m looking at her and thinking, why doctor, I could die in your arms tonight….
So she asks whether she can help me and I’m thinking, can you?!
Anyway, she says she wasn’t prepared for me (it just keeps getting better) and asks whether I’m in school at which point I am tempted to answer that with “hell no, I’m legal, do with me as you please!”
What I did say was, “will it be less painful, if I say I am? Coz then I could easily be in nursery school, nay, day care!!”
So she looks at me square in the eye, which was a mean feat considering my eyes were not looking at hers….and asks whether she looks like she could hurt me and I’m thinking, “do you really want to hurt me? Do you really want to make me cry…” and saying, “no, but …”
So she says we’ll do this tomorrow, and I smile and say thank you.
…guess I live to die another day…