GETTING SPACIER THAN AN ASTRONAUT

i haven't been writing in awhile. i mean i've been writing awhile. writing nothing worthwhile in some while. ive been writing patient reports, documenting slow deaths, slow sips, slow symptoms of suffocation. polysubstance abuse, ambulance rides in the wrong direction, when bodies are all that's left. tubes for breathing, eating, pissing. every hour, vitals are documented. every night, you can't sleep. and as im shoving a fig newton into your palm, i wonder when the last time you remembered was.

last week, an 83 year old told me she lives with her mom and dad and that she doesn't have kids. i watched her drink water and i told her her view from inside was beautiful. good her kids werent there to hear that.

today i saw a dying man pull out his lines and refuse his medications. he will starve, and he will suffocate, and he will die a very painful death and the entire medical team was helpless then. i will never be able to help anyone as much as i want to. and neither will anyone else.

the year was busier than before. or im emptier than before. 

i'm moving to chicago in a month.