Lying in a hospital bed is the closest I ever come to being an artist. There is invasion and scrutiny by strangers, people are only interested in what I produce. People grow from pain but being a Patient is real art, right down to the competition;
It is time to be better at finding plump, blue, blood vessels than the phlebotomist or any other patient on this floor.
I am a conductor of monitor tones and the maestro of a self administered morphine drip making life into a vibrant water color painting. This art is borne of pain, it couldn’t exist without suffering. I should be giving lectures to art students: don’t throw away forty grand on a four year degree in Art, spend eight grand in a hospital wing and LIVE art!
But my IV gets tangled whenever I climb onto a podium and the first two rows of the audience are only planning to attend the final act.
