My mother later explained that it was my father's little quirk. He would watch the lottery with his friends, and they would always scream and verbally assault each other. It was their way of relaxing and socialising amongst their peers. She proceeded to then tell me how she discovered this neat little detail so when my mom asks him something in a calm and orderly manner, he screams at her and then does what she asked him. The best thing about it she says is he doesn't remember a thing. Truly a phenomenon.
"Your mother has just come, I have got to go. Oh and Bruce thank you for being nice to her. You know she needs you to spoil now.
„You know me, always the charmer." I lied through my teeth and could actually feel the guilt tearing me up inside.
"What did you do my wonderful son, she seems so happy? My Father asked more curious than ever. He probably wanted to hone this trick that didn't exist for himself.
"Come on dad, isn't my general well-being enough. It is me after all", I started to laugh, followed by a brief silence to my jokingly answer before responding himself
"Fine, don't tell me." He snarls before the line went silent. He hung up on me.
I wondered why was she happy, because I sure wasn't, but I am unhappy because I thought that I hurt her. So why do I still have this feeling of guilt inside? She was smiling. Doesn't that mean I did the right thing or was she purposely trying to look happy in front of my dad so he wouldn't kick my ass? In any case, she is a saint, and I am an insolent brat. If only she listened to me. It is easy to talk, it is harder to truly listen, and it is a treacherous path towards being heard. If she would at least tell me what I have to do to make her listen. Dare to dream I guess. I decided to do some crosswords to take my mind off of things. Just as I sat at the table, he came into the room. My stupid ass brother Nathan.
"What's up? Bruce, the gay!!" He entered the room screaming, Luckily we were the only ones in the room at the moment.
"Not your best one there Nate, " I told him, not taking my eyes off the crossword puzzle. I called him Nate or Nath because he would get really flustered when I called him Nath. I never bothered to ask him or figure out why.
"Are mom and dad at the restaurant?" I continued.
"Why the fuck are you asking me for? They should be, well that's where dad was when I left so they probably still are."
"No need to be a Nathan about it, just asking." I decided to provoke him a bit. There wasn't really any reason, but I had missed this.
"Excuse me? A Nathan?!!! You only wish you could be a Nathan, handsome and vigorous is only the beginning my friend.
"Yeah, whatever. Are you going to help me with this crossword or what?" I say. He looks at the table.
"Well, why didn't you say sooner dickwad?" He sits next to me in the hospital's chair at the table.
"This one is pretty hard though." I sincerely told him.
"Hmph, maybe to you." Nathan reeks of self-confidence and arrogance. It is the one thing that got him through life and at the same time was holding him back. He was always popular with the ladies, because of it. He would get carried away as with the number of girlfriends, as with the tequila shots as with everything, but he always managed to get out of any sticky situation all by himself. To be fair, he was the one who put himself in all of those situations. That is what I admired about him. I would often joke that it was the only thing. We were doing the crossword and were halfway done when the ink dried on the pen. We only had one pen and were worried we wouldn't get to finish the crossword we had implemented so much time in. Even though we had only started fifteen minutes ago.
"Go look for a nurse, Nate."
"You go look for a nurse, I am not getting up this seat." He didn't stick to orders very well.
"Are you fucking kidding me?! I am in a wheelchair" As soon as I said it the realisation hit Nathan. He realised that I was sick and felt bad about it. At least that's what it looked like.
"You know what let's get some fresh air in you." He said, then smiled awkwardly. When I say awkward I don't mean the typical awkwardness you get when you wave to a stranger who is waving to someone behind you, but a whole another level. Like all the mini stereotypical awkward situations came together and formed that smile.
"Sure, " I replied thinking that I could use some fresh air since I have been lying for two weeks straight at the hospital.
He pushed me in my wheelchair, and I could see his frowning face, and I am not going to lie, I was enjoying myself. I had missed this, even though it was 2 weeks it felt like a decade. I missed this constant bickering with my brother, I missed my father with his lottery quirks and even my mother with her pimple popping techniques and her untaintable lust for the craft. My brother opened the door of room 19. The child room and we entered the hallway. Right at that moment, I noticed the looks, piercing through me like shrapnel. They look at me. They gaze upon me, but they can not see me. Their opinions cloud their perception. These people see a young man driving his brother in a wheelchair. They might think of brotherly love or maybe see the poor sick man riding in the wheelchair. In this case, me. All of this might be right, but most people would imagine themselves dreading the situation while thanking god they are not in our places. This is wrong. It is sad when you realise that people can mostly feel based on comparing their lives to others and don't understand that each life and experience is unique on their own. Yes I might have a brain tumour, and I might be driven through this hospital corridors in the wheelchair pushed by my brother, but actually, I couldn't be happier. I really don't care about what these people think. I don't believe that it is for me to decide. I am just glad because I have the strength to enjoy this moment. After all, these hospitals are really where I grew up. So it is kind of my home. I would rather be at my real home of course, but this place has given me so many memories and opportunities for which I am truly grateful. After all, nothing really matters as long as we are together and gently gliding through the corridors and parks in a wheelchair outside the hospital made me an appreciative piece of shit. I could tell my brother was enjoying it too. We even lit up a joint for a little relaxation. We were really cautious and moderate since I didn't want to get coughing because it made me panic and my chest would hurt. We took light angel puffs and passed the joint every 3 hits. And it felt amazing. The scenery. The place, the joint and us. Everything was in perfect harmony. I then realised without this disease and that stupid piece of shit in my head I would have never been able to enjoy this moment. Maybe to recreate the situation but not the feeling. I felt loved and cared for. I felt my brother's excitement, and it excited me. My blood rushed vigorously through my veins. I could feel it rush into my heart. He was also kind of a douche and would let go of me for a short period when we were going downhill, I always thought that I would crash and started cursing, but he still always caught me so I wouldn't fuck myself up.
"Well, at least he was not an absolute douche, " I thought while observing the scenery. The thought made me happy to have him as a brother. That is until he tried to drop me again. This process went in a circulatory fashion.
We walked through the park around the hospital, and we were just exploring a bit. We would also spend the entire time talking, and I played Pokemon GO and collected Pokemon around the hospital while he drove me. We joked about how much of stoners we are and that we were not normal since we weren't and it was plain to see. I mean who in the hell goes driving around parks in a hospital wheelchair and smokes a joint after 7 stitches. The story of the stitches is personally a painful one for me. Even now I can feel that damn needle piercing my head.
It was about 11 A.M. at the hospital. Having have had a light breakfast I wanted to eat something hefty for lunch, so my aunt brought me a footlong meatball sub. Size does matter in this case.
Meanwhile, I had forgotten that the doctors were still debating about whether they will revise the wound from the biopsy and "clean it out." their dilemma was sped up when the CSF started drenching out of my head as if from a faucet.
The nurse couldn't find Dr Equal and rushed one of the medical practisants to my room.
"What do you want me to do here?" The practisant entered the room confused which made me feel "safe and secure" by default.
"His head is leaking, " The nurse said and looked at me seeming worried for my sake.
The young doctor stopped talking and changed to a look of pure determination which brought confidence to my attention. I clenched my teeth and was ready. I could feel the light pluck as she gently removed the two stitches they put in Rijeka for precautionary measures. Only a fool would think it was over. Sadly I was that fool because right then I felt it pass me like a razor blade. Like a graceful dolphin jumping out of the water and diving back again, the needle pierced its way through my skin before reaching out the other side tightening the string that was attached to the needle. The pain was so intense, I couldn't even count and clenched my teeth, grinding them together trying to suppress a bit of pain.
"Can you endure?" She asked as tears started flowing down my eyes. I just nodded not being able to say anything. When she had finished, the place where the stitches were put and where the biopsy had been done was sealed shut. To this point that I couldn't raise my eyebrow without raising half the right side of my face. I was sewed like a doll.
"Are...alright" From the pain, I could only partially hear the nurse, but I deducted her sentence and went to sleep from the pain that was pulsating within me. Worst five minutes of the day, but if it weren't for that particular moment this experience couldn't have been so special and unique. That is amazing about it all. I am glad those seven stitches happened because after that everything was literally a breeze that wiped away all the problems. My brother and I were just enjoying ourselves and having fun. In some eyes, it might have been just an ordinary regular stroll around the park between one brother who cares for his sick brother, but when I felt how at peace we were together, our energies conjoined and our spirits uplifted. How could I not have felt real happiness? We stopped by a small river just between a small creek that was located near the back of the hospital. I started to go all philosophical on my brother like we liked to do. I said to him: "You know Nate, life is like a river of problems, you can either choose to be happy and let the problems flow over you or through you. Let your problems wash you, not bathe you, or you will drown in the river." I told him in the eeriest way I could.
"Okay that's enough Mahatma Gandhi, smoke the joint and stop talking shit." My brother replied poetically. In his own way.
While smiling at Nathan pretty much high as a kite, I turned my head and looked at the creek
"I love it here. This is something extraordinary. I love that I am here with you and our parents. I love the support. I love everything about this adventure." At that moment I spoke my innermost feelings to him. They have bubbled up after all this time.
"Okay, that's enough of weed for now. If you are gonna go on about fate and cosmic energy, I will pluck those stitches right off you cunt."
"Yeah sorry, bro lets just smoke this fat stinker and get back to the room. Crosswords await." I said while laughing and holding up a big joyous smile.
"Get inside you fat fuck. I know you can walk, but you are a lazy piece of shit." He was telling the truth, but it sure was fun to drive in that wheelchair.
"Well, I am your brother after all, " I said smugly while sitting in the chair.
"Wanna make me let go of you again?
"And catch me right before I fall off? Sure mate." I answered my own question.
"Come on wanker. Fucking crosswords ain't gonna solve themselves." That being said we turned around and headed towards the hospital.
So we are just strolling back to the hospital. It started to rain. I can feel the light wet drizzle on my skin, but nothing major though my brother was aware that if he brought me back drenched and soggy that the nurses and our parents will have him to blame. So the mother-fucker starts flooring it and almost gets us killed. If the car stopped just a second later, we would have been hit, and I would probably be dead. That's life I suppose. Would be more comfortable to live through life if my Nathan wasn't such an idiot. So we got back to my hospital room and started doing the crosswords. We had all sorts of tactics. Like I could do horizontally, and he would do vertically or if it were a 4 platform crossword puzzle one of us would do 2 while the other did two as well and etc. We got pretty good at them actually. This was one of my main activities during my stay at the hospital. Yes, I know. What fun and fulfilled life, but really it was. I could feel a particular kind of satisfaction and happiness. I am enjoying my stay here. Most people get sick just from thinking about the hospital. The smells of medication and green or white walls cause sadness in some people. This is where I grew up though. Since I was a little kid would continuously be sick and would stay in hospitals. This was my 6th operation. My feet, teeth, eyes, tonsils were all subjected before to the cold table of the operating room. Unfortunately, this one is more severe than the previous ones, but I don't mind. This really is a unique experience as I mentioned before and my perspective and spirit have really changed in this last couple of days. Although I was always ready to face this head on, now I feel that it is my duty to carry on and all the support I can feel is almost intoxicating. This building probably has many stories to tell. Both beautiful and horrific, but we are all here for the same purpose. To support each other and persevere. A unique kind of solidarity and compassion can be felt while walking through the hospital's corridors beside the beady nosey eyes, but let me tell you the first time you get up and walk after the operation and feel genuinely good, no fucking feeling in the world is better. The medical staff is professional, but kind and considerate and are willing to let you enjoy your stay by permitting you to walk around the hospital or have visitors. I really admire them. To be able to withstand the responsibility of the patient lying on that operating table in that cold room. One wrong flick of the wrist and you are the sole reason that man is scared for life or worse. Especially brain surgery. One mistaken nerve touched, and you have a man without the ability to walk or speak. Of course, I realise I have no idea what I am talking about, but this is my point of view. They admire my positivity and "courage, " and I cannot see why. I can, but really all I need to do is listen to them and recover. It is what everybody here wants. To get well and strive together. We are not patients and doctors here. We are a community and a family. You learn so much from these people. You each get to know each other's habits and usually share an interesting story or two. Some people prefer to talk more and some less. No two beings are the same nor are they meant to be. That is the beauty of it. Nobody is the same although we are connected and brought together by the energy. The energy that keeps us moving forward. It fades from time to time but never dissipates. It is inside of all of us and is nurtured by positive thoughts and a healthy environment.
"Bruce, didn't you hear me?" I was shocked back to reality by Nathan's question.
"I am sorry, I drifted off, " I explained to Nathan who was sitting beside me
Nathan always took crosswords more seriously than I did. He would often get competitive or way too engaged, I could also sense him judging me if I didn't know something and smirking if he knew it.
"Focus on the crossword please, god so unprofessional, " Nathan says as he rolls his eyes.
I smile having proven the point in my head.
Nathan nervously taps the crossword and points at the bracket. We were looking for a three letter word describing a thief.
"What the fuck that can't be, what word is that?" I start to say.
"You mean nothing to me anymore." He says while writing the three letter word" TAT."
"How could I have been so blind, Lord please forgive me, "I said jokingly remembering that that was the word that was often used in crosswords and the word we would make fun of the most. Having felt shame and while having have had an unusually intense headache from the whole day, I decided to have a lie down before I was permitted to leave the hospital and go back home.