Hanging On

By Anonymous

Exhausted beyond description.
Body, mind, soul, spirit, will.
My arm molecules feel oddly cleaved.
I try to sleep
Floating
Drifting
Thinking
Half-dreaming
Restless.
With the cat by my feet.
There is no room to stretch out.
Too hot, I expose a shoulder.
Too cold.
I feel feverish
I take my temperature.
Below normal. The flashlight is too bright.
Drowsy but more awake now,
Disappointingly and acutely aware
That I still feel like hell.
And that I have to pee
Too tired.
Finally my bladder wins
I drag myself to the bathroom
Heart racing.
Grab a cookie on the way back.
Back to bed.
It is still night, although it’s brightening outside.
I dread going back to bed
But really have no choice.
Another day of this. How many more?
I am desperate for it to end
But I am I desperate enough to end it?
After some serious thought I conclude I’m not.
And I try to go back to sleep.
Sometime later,
It will be
Better. I have to believe.
I just have to hang on.
But I’m too weak
Too tired
There isn’t enough of me left.

I can’t do this.
Yes, you can. You are. And you will.
My father’s voice comes from the beyond, tearful for me, but I sense pride and so much love.
The cat jumps up, wanting to cuddle.
Maybe Dad sent him.
OK, I will try to sleep some more.
Maybe
When I wake up
It will be better.