The Urine Bag

Because the living can’t let go of the dying, the dying still, DRAGS on, indefinitely, until, life can’t, keep going anymore, this is, really CRUEL, when you think about it, translated…

Days and nights come the same in the E.R., the bright light, illuminated on the lightly stained, green seats, with more red stools, left scattered over there in the corner, for the families to take and use.  In the control of the electric sliding doors at the entrance, the air-conditioning was on, full-blast, other than the clock on the wall, that announced the hours, everything felt like, it isn’t, affected by time.

In actuality, in the long wait, the workers were, rushing to and from, with the carts, with the huge thick stacks of medical records on the desk, other than stopping the nurses that are running around, to ask about how long we are to wait to get treated, time, lacked, meaning in this place.

this, would be, the “indicator” of people’s health in the elderly years now…photo from online

Sitting on the stool, with nothing to do, I’d, gotten through this, endless night, and, got too bored, of playing with my cell phone so I’d, turned it off now, no more new messages to sort through.  Only that urine bag that’s, hung next to the bed, increasing by the minute, faithfully, showed that everything, is operating, normal, that it’d, not malfunctioned.

In the midnight hours, as the nurses who’d, switched shifts wheeled in the carts to check again, she’d, turned on the light in the hall, and, the full urine bag reflected that golden color, reminding, how I should, get her breakfast as the sun started, rising.

Since the last time my father fell, he’d, had this continual ache in his back, it became, constantly, inflamed, he was hospitalized for over a month for observations, and ruling out the fractured spine and other causes, until he had the tubes into his bladder, that helped him urinate normally, his back pains finally, subsided.

Since, he can’t be, without the urine bags, for the sake of these living metabolisms, we’d, repeatedly gone to the hospitals, scheduled his check ups, signed on for the surgeries.  And yet, his blood results, failed to pass the standards, the operating room refused him.  After these past few months of trials, we got, back inside, that place of origin where, everything got, started again.

Before we left the hospital, the nurses, replaced the urine tubes for him again.  And I’d, excused myself out of the room, found my escape, to the outside of his, hospital ward.

At the end of the hall, there was, a glass door that extended to the lanai, it was, a sunny afternoon, the sun came shining down, and yet, I can, only hear the shrilling cries that my father was, making in the room.

Orangy yellow, unclear yellow, a rusty yellow color, the transparent yellow.  My father’s urine bags became, an alternative sort of mood indicator, signifying his health status, with the varied shades, as well as if he was, on the right kinds of, diets.

As life had no more mystery to it, everything spread out, in front of, science and statistics, under the advances of medical treatment procedures, the body’s deteriorations can be examined directly, can be touched, can be weighed and measured, everything that’s, originally, private, became wide open, serving, as, that daily reminder.

Drinking, eating the needed nutrients, the outputs of urine, and fecal matter, the body became, that stubborn hourglass, calculating the years.  The memories, the youth, the ideals, those, leftover dreams, not meaningful, but repeated on, the grains of rough pebbles, and sands, from the washing over of the emotions, collected into the seconds, and the minutes, becoming, an amber colored, yellow, expelled, out of that exit, drop, by drop, by drop, until the day life, stopped.

The urine bag, seemed to, have caught all the broken shards of that hourglass, using its, stealthy measures, delayed, the countdown to the end of life.

And so, this, is what it looked like, toward the end, because, of the medical advances, the modern day technological, advances, people are, living longer, but, think about it, if you have to get hooked onto a machine that breathes, or even, helps you to continue your normal bodily functions, then, what would, be the purpose, of living like that, there’s, absolutely NO quality of life that’s, left, not to mention, the aging persons’ dignities, and yet, because the living doesn’t want to let go of the dying, the dying are, still, lingering on, until, they can’t, hold on anymore, and finally swallowed that very LAST breath…and that, is what modern day medical and technological advances, contribute, to human longevity.