by Geri Boyd, RN and Paramedic
I sit in awe at the brain and what It can do.
It can critically think in a split-second how to maneuver a car out of a truly devastating accident.
It can throw out the arms of a mother as her child’s body falls headfirst toward the pavement, stopping the fate, while talking on the phone, never missing a dialogue or thought.
It can work in the medical field calculating drug dosages and doing CPR while singing the song in Its’ head, Stayin Alive, Stayin Alive. At the same time, It can jot down the very precise second each drug was given for each rhythm and the joules used to shock the heart back to life along with how many CPR rounds It completed.
It can remember phone numbers, addresses, people’s names, streets, roads, how to cook, clean, and fold laundry, until It can’t, It just can’t.
It starts with subtleness; I’ve lost my keys. I can’t remember how to get home.
I don’t know who put the chicken in the cabinet, maybe somebody else did.
As the days, weeks, and years go by, telling the story of all the lost items, fender benders, and lost baths, It can no longer hide the truth, it’s no longer anyone else’s fault, only It is the problem.
Time never stops and the world continues to turn, and It doesn’t know people anymore, It doesn’t know time anymore, It doesn’t know hunger or thirst anymore or whether it’s day or night until... they start singing Amazing Grace and How Great Thou Art. There It is, It awakens and parts the meshed lips into a toothless smile, elevating the heart for just a moment in time, as the frail quivering voice sings it’s melodic song from the heart. Then, the music stops and to rest It returns and remains until once again, gospel night at The Home, freeing It week after week. Free at last, It’s free at last, but only for a moment.