He was a half hearted man,
with his legs torn open from
falling from the top of the earth;
one leg down and
the rest of the body to go.
I met him at his house.
he was good and drunk,
and his house was as neat as
a catholic church.
He stumbled for a bit, muttered
some ***** and *****
before sitting down on a wooden chair.
I was there to fix his leg.
The drunk had torn it open in a display
of falling glory.
The wound was a giant blood filled
blister that got vacuumed and removed
and now a giant hole remained.
He said he didn't give a **** what
happened to his leg and I believed him.
So i cleansed the open wound, about the size
of a banana, giant hole down to the muscle
in his leg. New clean bandage applied.
He said it felt good and that was an important
victory.
And he said his pain was controlled well
with the *****.
and i told him how ***** has its time but
how it screws up the healing process and
that this gaping open banana in his leg
won’t close unless he chills with the ***.
he said life ***** sometimes and the *****
is a remedy.
Some part of me wanted to have a drink with
him and just hear his side of the story;
what kind of **** had he been through, why he
felt alcohol was the answer,
why he didn't believe in hope
and why was their
a feeling that if death was to take him today,
he’d be more than willing to go.
he didn’t really delve into much detail about
his past and I didn't especially pry —this was my
first time seeing this patient.
I typically wait till the next visit before
going into therapist mode and asking about history.
Maybe some people would be content with just going in
and doing this guy’s wound and dipping out like he was
a piece of an appliance on an assembly line, and get out.
Maybe the intoxication reminded them of someone they knew.
But I want to know another’s struggle.
I want to understand why the life that we all live is so unforgiving to so many,
I see a brother in arms, and
I want to listen to whatever he’ll reveal.
and maybe its nothing, maybe he won't tell the
whole story.
but I want this patient to know
listeners exist, strangers care,
and we might not be able to banish your
demons
but I’ll be ****** if
I
can’t sit by and listen
and
hear a man out.
And so we shook hands and I left wondering
if he could see my demons, too