The
nurse from the VA who came to my apartment
and
examined me made small talk as she poked and
probed,
took vital signs and recorded the results. So,
what
did you do for a living when you were still
working,
she asked me?
Oh,
it’s a long story, I told her, so many things. I did
factory
work. I was in sales, purchasing and advertising.
You
know, lots of different things. Mostly though, I am
an
artist and writer. I...I...I…stammering to collect my
thoughts
as I tried to explain.
So
much, so many things, it’s hard to say. An artist
and
writer, she repeated the best of what I had said
previously.
Perhaps to narrow my list of duties and
positions
in the past, I should have painted my per-
sonal
endeavors with a much broader brush.
Pursuant
to that, I could have said, mostly I played king
of
my own domain; some days I was the supreme ruler
of
all I surveyed. At times, I was benevolent and magnan-
omous;
now and then, I was a god, righteous and judge-
mental,
you know, Burn in hell! Off with their heads!
I
didn’t want to intimate of frighten the poor thing.
She
was just trying to make her work and mine a bit
more
palatable at the time. Blood pressure, 126 over
90.
Not too bad, I said to her. I added nurse to my list
that
day. I favour the artist and writer though. I’ll carry
those
preferred experiences with me to the grave.
-30-
Chris
Hanch 2-22-2020
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