VIRAGO

Chapter 19

When I read about the evidence of bone regrowth, I'm blown away. Not terribly exciting in the modern day, but in Neolithic times, proof of life; evidence the patient survived the procedure. Registering the growth of this new bony tissue cemented their success. Trepanation morphed into lobotomy, a far more primitive procedure; a method employing spikes, using the eye socket rather than the skull as a point of entry. My research concludes with Craniotomy; the most modern term with a noted difference, the surgeon now replaces the removed part of the skull.

This pleases me; tidying up after one's self if you will.

Whilst the average bear may feel unease about what I am forced to do to myself in order to survive a few more ticks off the clock, I find my justification; that creating openings in my body to relieve pressure holds a legitimate place in history.

Expulsion from my body is the only effective method I have found thus far; believe me when I say I've tried a thousand different ways. Some days it's all about coping, just putting one foot in front of the other to get through the next sixty seconds. I live through extremes where a calm middle channel is a rarity. I'm buffeted between two emotional shore lines; one tosses me high, whilst the other drags me under.

When I'm high, I'm so lifted by the recognition that my feelings matter to another human. The next day or even hour can be so different. I hit the shore where the tide is too strong; it drags me under. I'm unable to gain any leverage on getting up to the surface. I tire and it crosses my mind it would be far easier to surrender to the black watery depths. I hear myself begging the stallion to consume me; to put an end to it all.

Fractured pieces come together; the sum of parts that make us whole. The accumulation of scraps from my past make me a jigsaw of multiple pieces that don't slot into place accurately. There must be others like me with missing parts, those who'll never be able to complete their picture. The broken puzzle I am, responds so positively to David's visits; exchanges so insignificant to observers, have become the highlight of my day. I'm comfortable around his easy manner, the way nothing ground breaking happens during our time together. Just allowing myself to be is a challenge, letting go of expectations that there must be a point to everything I do, a goal to achieve, a task to complete. I know from our conversations that he has a wide circle of acquaintances, so I also know that unlike me, he is never short of human interaction. Yet he chooses to spend some of his time with me and that turns my insides into marshmallows, toasted and gooey from the heat of his kindness.

Except today. Things have changed and I'm unable to see the sun no matter how hard I look. I may have spent my entire existence searching for something in the wrong place.

     'Have you ever drunk coffee?'

     'No.'

     'Health conscious, not a bad thing. Requires too much self-discipline for my liking. You'll be thrilled to know my headaches have been rectified.'

     'Eliminated?'

     'Hope so; they were brutal. Only so long you can walk around with a vice squeezing around your skull. So, I have more news.'

     'I've never met anyone with as much to report. It's quite exhausting.'

    'So, ask the question.'

     'The question?'

     'Yes, the question. Come on, play the game grumpy. Every time I tell you I have news you say...'

     'Oh, that question. I'm really not in the mood for this today David.'

     'Tunnel not lighting up?'