I went to the doctor today for the first time and experienced a new way of doing medicine. Compared with American experiences, things went more quickly, tests could be done right there in the office, medication handed out at the same location. Things also seemed slightly less sterile, but not in a dangerous way. Just less packaging of medical tools, a frayed towel instead of a disposable smock, the woman who took my blood didn't wear gloves, and the metal stand which held some of the equipement had rust spots on it. But everything was clean, and everyone was wearing slippers instead of outdoor shoes.
As I had my blood drawn I felt a familiar nauseous feeling rise up inside of me. A slight light-headedness. The woman looked at me and I think she was asking me if I felt alright. I just kept nodding yes. She finished and I kept telling myself that I wasn't going to faint. I focused on breathing and relaxing as much as possible but it was inevitable.
And suddenly I was in Japan! Why were these Japanese women carrying me? What was going on? I'm in Japan? Why am I in Japan, who are these people? Why am I in Japan? How did I get here?
So strange what happens when the brain doesn't have blood. I was transported to a place more real than any I've ever experienced in waking life and to be brought out of it is so jolting. For a brief period I was somewhere more stable than any I've been in the past few months. I can't remember what it was, but it was very real.
It seems there is a large part of me that hasn't figured out yet that I'm here. Part of me is still elsewhere. In the last few days I've seen people post status updates about cold bike rides and apple orchards in Madison. There are a lot of things that I miss about Madison. People and places and the smell of the changing seasons. Part of me is still there. It is hard to track the assimilation that one has with a new place. I'm finally finishing my last tube of American toothpaste, the floss was finished yesterday. By what parameter can I tell that I'm here? Fainting spells or dental hygiene or the slowly growing comfort with saying hello and asking directions?
This morning I sat by the river and noticed how beautiful it is and how wonderful the cool summer air felt. This is the only day and place, the only moment with this feeling. In an instant it will be different. It's hard not to hold on to places elsewhere, places in which I have spent far more of my life, invested far more of myself, places in which I have really enjoyed the act of living. But there is also so much here. How much do I miss when my thoughts are elsewhere? How much more of myself can I bring to this place if I become open to what is around me? It is a balance to respect what the past has given me and what the present has to offer. Hopefully I will be able to do this without another fainting spell.
No comments:
Post a Comment