Life traveled on in its normal daily path until one day it didn’t.  One minute I was in the emergency room for abdominal pain.  The next minute I had surgery.  I woke up in a hospital room a few days later.  (I’ve been told about the first two days.  I’ll take the testimony of excellent witnesses.)

I woke up but I had no brain or rather the one I had refused to work in its usual creative ways.  Worse It didn’t occur to me that I could read or write.  I watched mindless TV, avoided all things political and fell asleep while people talked to me.

About a week later my brain started to wake up.  I remember things more clearly.  However, any creative brain cells remained stubbornly silent.  One morning I realized that I had a really large window in my room.  My brain said ‘Tweet.’  I did.  I toke pictures.  I wrote.  I read a book again on my Kindle.

Below are the photographs and Tweets that tracked my journey from hospital vegetable to a poet who happened to be hospitalized.

A Tweeted Journal of a Hospital Poet

When life hands you a really big blow, have friend, family and fun therapy. Love, clouds after rain/a shaft of sun/hugs

I miss the breathing of trees/2weeks/hospital/I remember green gold lite/breathing white clean
Light of a new day/spreads watercolor over blue sky/Mt Diablo adds perspective/solid earth permanence/to the painting of today

Window to the world/Mt Diablo &/the new days joy

And the sun shouts/over Mt Diablo/clear speaking of day/to my hospital room

At Home

Trying to rain/CA autumn day/through the window/color flies to my eyes/feeds my soul

The First Walk

Evening sky bowl/color dances in the sky/trees darken into night/peace floods the air

Janice Eskridge©2017