I can do it!

Italian

I was dragging my tired legs down along the corridor. Up and down.
My right hand was closed around the pole holding bags and bottles for the infusions.
That pole on wheels was my inseparable companion during the thousand passages from one set of windows to another, between Hematology and Oncology.

I observed the relatives who entered, deep in thought about their loved ones.
They walked quickly, and gave me just a glance as they breathlessly passed me with my mask, my legs, my thin arms, the pole, the hanging bags, and the pump functioning with a battery.

They walked around me, being careful not to make me trip and then proceeded down the tracks of their own thoughts.

I can still see them sit down with a gesture that is discreet yet lively, on the edge of a chair in the reception area.
There, they slip into shoe covers and put the face mask on, sometimes with difficulty.

There's a dose or two of disinfectant for their hands, then they stand and walk awkwardly, because of the shoe covers, towards the hospital patients' rooms.

With their knuckles, they give three light taps on the door, smile tentatively, and then disappear over the threshold, leaving me alone in the corridor, with my brief uncertain steps.

Then, while a clock on the wall counts the seconds, I repeat my stroll and return, before the pump sounds, blipping to tell me that its battery is expiring.

I missed my liberty!
I wanted to get out of there, but above all I wanted to once again decide what to do:
go to work, sit in traffic, receive phone calls from friends, joke...

I wanted to laugh, the way I laughed when life was a given and I didn't constantly think that it could slip away like a handful of salt.

I remember that sensation so well.
A long wait, suspended.
Like finding yourself in front of a traffic light and waiting for the green which never comes.

If I think about them now, I smile; but those months profoundly marked me.

When I finished my walks around, I stood next to the bed and with a final effort econnected the plug of the battery charger to the pump, to interrupt its insistent blip blip blip.
Then I laid my head on the pillow.
Closing my eyes, I kept repeating to myself: “I can do it. I can do it.”

These are the words which accompanied my dreams, and they still do so.
They remind me that every obstacle can be overcome, as long as I am patient and ready to fight when it's necessary.

I'll never stop being that thin wobbly figure in the hospital corridor, not even now that I've retaken my life.

Now, as then, I know that life can present difficult trials.
But now, as then, I know: I can do it!