“Hi. It’s time for your medication.” The nurse said to me with a sweet smile, delicate hands carefully holding a hypodermic needle as she approached me. I only smiled in reply despite the slight intrusion, placed the pen down and quietly let her do her work.
I tried to remember what was the first sentence I was intending to write, but my mind seems to have lost it somewhere. The idea now totally forgotten. I sighed. Hey, she was just doing her job. I bet she was just trying to cheer me up too. I felt a bit bad for being moody.
I’ve been in the hospital for three days now and still under some medication. Nothing serious, but the doctors say I have to rest. My body felt fine, yet inside I felt terrible because I wanted to write, and secretly ache to play more Go. I have this nagging feeling that what little I have learned over the past few weeks seems to be gently passing through my ears like grains of sand. I should probably fill my head with more sand. The knowledge is escaping! Ahh! 🙂
“You should rest some more. Okay?” She said to me after she was finished. She seemed to have slightly sensed my agitation, looking now at my empty notebook. I felt a bit foolish and tried to cover it with my hands, as I looked away sheepishly. I should probably bury myself with these fluffy pillows.
She only smiled and left with half a glance at the basketball match on the tv. I noticed for the first time that it was on, filling the room with noise and sound and life. It was the game of Heat against Spurs. So, that’s why the audience was cheering so much. Unfortunately, I have no love for sports, yet I have no choice but to passively listen on something while I write. Correction: Tried to write.
The door closed with a resounding click. I reached for the tv remote and lowered the volume down. Finally, some peace and quiet. Now that everything’s set alright, I, once again, once more, slowly held the pen over the paper with a smile, my mind trying to find the words that I lost, hoping to find them again, hold them in my hands, carefully set them down on the paper and… then I felt the first signs of the medicine’s effects slowly hitting me.
Drowsiness began to fill my head, just as I was beginning to remember what I was trying to write. The pillow was now more softer that I could remember and the air, nicer and cooler to the skin. Ahh. Must stay… awake. Must.. write. Must… sleep. Why am I holding a pen? Ahh. Brains.. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt for a little… nap.