I was sitting here, in my partially comfy hospital recliner. Half awake and half in a drugged out Benadryl stupor when a woman’s voice came over the loud speaker for the whole hospital to hear. It sounded very scripted and “robot-esque”. Can you hear it?
“FIRST RESPONDERS – MEDICAL EMERGENCY – CLINIC – FIRST FLOOR – MAIN LOBBY.”
She repeated herself three times, so when she finally was able to snag someones attention, they had a chance to actually hear what she was saying.
Again, remember the Benadryl. My mind went to school shooters…insert any random act of violence, really. But I though of school shootings. As I stared out the much too bright wall of windows in front of me, I was facing a couple of smaller trees. They were begging spring to come and stay so their swollen buds could bloom. I thought about what it might feel like to be doing something, nothing really, anything, and then for chaos to ensue all around. Out of no where, you feel completely safe and then you become the most vulnerable thing in the world. For those few seconds, maybe minutes, and hopefully not hours what would that feel like. How would that change you? I know, I know. People give interviews to news outlets all the time giving me answers. But I’m talking about a change on the cellular level. A level so deep, it is hard to explain to another human being who hasn’t experienced it. The right words just never seem to organize themselves. I have learned over the years this change can be communicated in a look, in which no one really sees. You can feel it, if you catch their stare and are observing more than usual, but can never quite decipher it. Oh, they try and they try. It is a heavy look to carry…
As I sit and listen and stare, I know the tree will bloom, I know the shooter will stop, I know the pain will go somewhere. But when….