i went to the hospital yesterday. a few things surprised me.
san juan de dios is costa rica's premier hospital in the heart of san jose. it's old with new parts. the east corridor pavillion is open with arches, the are trees and birds in the inside patios. the floors are spanish tile, shiny. schools of learning doctors, teams of nurses and orderlies, in the old wing of the hospital, seem to outnumber the patients.
our patient is roughly 63, midwestern american, who not unlike most other gringos got lost in a place that seems liked paradise, a shangrila of happiness and horse farms far, far away from all the churches only to get smacked down by and reborn in jesus.
she needs a new hip. she's not diabetic. all she wants is candy, to taste a little joy despite and reward for enduring pain, in the dark, alone, in the middle of nowhere for months. six rides up and down twisted dirt mountain roads, in 4x4 ambulances ended up disarticulating the entire pelvis of what would be a very strong, very healthy woman.
i guess it was all the tragedy of her life partner leaving her there. and also covid. fucking lesbians. it's never real. someone always has to be the man. fornication isn't selective preference we have any right to, some lifestyles are not sustainable as they bear no fruit, and orgasm is attainable through other means than intercourse. american women got pummeled by pornography so hard they forgot they were victims of it.
not to say we aren't friends. but women who are friends without men, can only ever be just friends. it's dishonest to say there is a human right to become an indentured to denial. dick is very important.
this east wing where she lies and clutches to feelings of fear, knowing she's just lived through hell, is not kosher, rather it's clean, bright, fluid. as if this hospital has never performed the rite of circumcision. her bed is next to the window. if she unclenches her eyes she has a view of tropical heaven and ever changing sky.
i leave knowing she's in the very best of hands, that she's going to make it, however long it takes. she says she's german mexican but i look around at the other five ladies in the ward, all injun, every one. they aren't in hospice, they came to saint john of god, to get well, not to die.
