MEMORIES

 Every little detail evoked memories of my time in the hospital. This encompassed everything from the television programs that aired in the hospital to the specific brand of soap that was utilized. It was as if each element served as a poignant reminder of that period. I can vividly recall the early mornings, when I would perch on the edge of my bed, gazing out the window. The sight of cars inching their way through the congested traffic in and out of town filled me with a sense of longing. Envy consumed me as I yearned for a sense of normalcy, free from the shackles of illness. I often found myself daydreaming about the day I would finally be discharged and allowed to return home. Perhaps I would engage in a meticulous observation of the various vehicles – cars, trucks, and buses – passing by, seeking solace in the mundane details to alleviate the monotony of my confinement. At my disposal lay the script of my reality, awaiting the next act to unfold.Every minute detail triggered recollections of my time in the medical facility. This encompassed everything from the television programs that aired in the hospital to the specific brand of soap that was utilized. Each element seemed to act as a poignant reminder of that period. I can distinctly remember the early mornings, when I would perch on the edge of my bed, gazing out the window. The sight of cars inching their way through the congested traffic in and out of town filled me with a sense of yearning. Envy consumed me as I longed for a semblance of normalcy, unchained from the grip of illness. I often found myself daydreaming about the day I would finally be discharged and permitted to return home. Perhaps I would engage in a meticulous observation of the various vehicles – cars, trucks, and buses – passing by, seeking solace in the mundane details to alleviate the monotony of my confinement. At my disposal lay the script of my reality, awaiting the next act to unfold. Truth be told, I was plagued by solitude and the idleness was slowly draining me.

Fast forward to several years after a relapse which prompted yet another hospitalization, the memories still linger. I always attempt to dismiss them but it proves to be a daunting task with the surge of memories and emotions evoked. I ponder, should these objects associated with my hospitalization act as some kind of mark for that bygone era? Should I cling to the memories? Should I release them? These are the myriad of questions that occupy my mind in the passing years as I navigate each day as an MS warrior.


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