Hi, all.
Yes, it’s been a while… So, with as little preamble as I am capable of, allow me to address my absence from this platform and associated artistic activities. Since its inception, Cocoons™ has been a seasonal project; beginning at the end of September and continuing through the colder months, with sporadic production/distribution during the spring and summer.
This year, however, I have been driven to daily distraction by the apparent moratorium on morality that has curtailed common sense in this country. I mean, is it just me, or has the sheer magnitude of this misanthropic malady made a mockery of an already precariously imperfect political system?
I suppose, in relation to the recorded history of all humanity, this level of concerted chaos comes not without precedent, but it has quite certainly been enough to take my admittedly limited attention span away from the altruistic aspirations of the Cocoons™ campaign.
Unfortunately, the uncertainty and anxiety caused by said chaos have been detrimental to the physical, mental, and emotional well-being of a great many people; among these, I count my own dear mother, to whom I owe much of my aforementioned altruistic inclinations.
Adversely affected by the stresses of this year, she’s suffered several strokes since the start of the summer. The most recent of these having occurred Friday evening last week. For the third time in four months, she checked in, was evaluated, and returned to the waiting room to wait for an examination room to become available. Unlike her previous visits, however, there would not be one for nearly eight hours.
Apparently, now that schools were back in session, the ER (which, I’m told, had been renamed ED around about the turn of the century) had perhaps three times as many patients waiting to be seen as compared to just two months before. Gurneys lined the hospital’s hallways like cars cued on highways during the holidays, and upon one such bed, along one such corridor, lay my mother.
In a chair at the foot of her bed sat my younger brother, and never will you see a more solemn and stalwart sentry than he. As for myself, I took a seat in a chair near the head of her bed, which, as it so happened, placed me in the path of traffic as the hallway turned there. My own placement in a chair near the head of her bed was at a bend in the hallway, placing me partially in the path of passing gurneys.
Every now and again, I would stand, look about the area, and check on the progress of my phone, which lay charging a few feet away. Occasionally, a doctor and/or nurse would stop by to check up on my mom and reassure her that they would get her to a room as soon as possible. And so it was, at just about 4:30 am, someone finally came to cart her away through the labyrinthine limbo of the emergency department to her room. Only after seeing that she was properly settled in did we then take our leave.
Walking dazedly out into the darkness, less than an hour before the dawn, we parted ways, my brother and I; each of us needing to process the past few hours in our own way…
We would return that evening, the next day, and the day after that, when she was finally released and allowed to come home. Two days later, she was readmitted, and the cycle began anew. Another night of uncertainty in the ER (excuse me, ED), waiting for a room… and answers. The former, it seems, was more forthcoming than the latter, and we were again escorted through the maze of corridors to yet another room…
The story does not end here, but anxiety and uncertainty weigh heavily on my mind, and for a while, I had been seriously considering not doing the campaign this year. But, no… this year has already caused so much harm to so many. Now more than ever, we need to be the change that we want to see in the world. It can start right here, with one small act of kindness… then another, and another… If you would like to contribute during this season of change, you may do so below…
As always, your support is greatly appreciated. Thank you so very much. ^_^
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