Previous Challenge Entry (EDITOR'S CHOICE)
Topic: WALL( 02/17/22)
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TITLE:
Viral Reality | Writing Challenge By Linda Goergen 02/24/22 |
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I think it’s been about a day and half now, since I noticed this bizarre ability to see inside my own body, watching and tracking the progress of the covid virus that is winding, weaving, using illegal paths and inventing new methods to invade every cell of my body, walling me in. It moves fast, and without mercy to create barriers I cannot escape from. Watching it is both infuriating and fascinating. And confusing,
So confusing, I fight for strength to tell a doctor and a nurse that come in, about seeing inside my body. They glance at each other before I hear, “...brain fog, low oxygen, not unusual with covid...†So, I surmise I'm being told my senses are faulty. But my sense of misery is functioning quite well and I know what I see! I want to scream, “so is the virus encasing me, or am I encasing it? Which is the reality? Does it even matter - as we both need to be locked down?†If only I could scream! I - am - too - weak - to – scream!
Somehow, night has evaporated into morning, and the doctor is pushing me to breathe deeper, reminding me I don’t want to be on a vent…but I just want to sleep. The nurses help me into a chair. I don’t want to be there. I want back in bed. The chair faces three walls with a window in the middle one, but the blinds are closed. I essentially face three walls, so I ask for the blinds to be raised. But when they are, the light sends searing pain through my head. The nurse quickly closes the blind and I face three walls again. Which irritates me! Then I realize I’m no longer tracking the covid inside me. Vaguely, I remember them administering some medication last night. It must have altered my inner vision and that really irritates me!
By the time breakfast arrives I want to throw it. Throw it at every real and every imagined wall I can think of. I’m sick of this. I have no appetite. I want to escape this prison of pain, of every joint screaming, of barely being able to take a breath, of being tethered to machines. I want to kick down every wall in my way, and run…just run…and run some more, but I can barely lift my hand, let alone kick down anything. So I slump into a ball of tears...
And then the nurse comes in, telling me my husband just called and that I have so many people and churches praying for me. “I really just want Jesus to take me on to Heaven,†I barely whisper, “I can’t fight this.â€
“But Honey, Jesus can, and He’s hearing all those prayers going up for you!†the nurse replies, “those prayers are like hands tearing down this covid wall trying to enclose you. Focus on the prayers, not the covid.â€
This nurse does not know about my inner covid vision. This is the first I’ve seen her. The fact she used the term… “tearing down covid wallâ€...simply had to come from the Holy Spirit!
So when they allow me to get back in bed, I lay, visualizing hands that had prayer written across them, pulling out pieces of the covid wall, piece by piece. I cannot actually see this one, but it is very real. And though I am too weak to pray, I can grasp onto this vision of others pulling down walls for me.
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This is a true account. As my recovery inched along, many symptoms refused to fall and I was told I had long covid. A wall of depression began trying to take hold. So, I began visualizing those prayers, not just as hands, but as stairs to help me scale my own inner wall of despair and push. Every prayer, every visual, has strengthened my hope, as gradually my energy is being fully renewed.
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