Tag Archives: life

Fighting Or Giving Up

A Symphony in Beeps

No dark tunnel materialized and no bright light, nor familiar voices whispering through a filmy barrier. Instead I stood on a beach in broad daylight. And I knew this beach well. The sand cushioned my bare feet while a stiff plank ran the length of my back, from my head to my ankles. “It’s a surf board” my mind explained, “see, your’e on a beach.” The location made sense. A still lake spread to my right, Cocolalla Lake in northern Idaho where I spent all my summers as a kid.

But in reality I was anesthetized, undergoing surgery at the University of Utah in Salt Lake. My colon had perforated that morning, and as I later learned my body was strapped down to a table. Still, while under I found myself in an alternative consciousness, standing on the shore of life and death.

The hardness of the board impeded easy movement, but I could shift my eyes side to side, and my feet just a little. To my left, seated on a rock wall, waited my ex-husband. That was not a good thing. Marriage to him had been difficult. He wasn’t a serious husband or father. Sadly enough his behaviors were fixed, and after our divorce he continued along his destructive path, succumbing to an early death about a year before I went under the knife. 

But at that moment he lounged on those rocks very much alive, watching me intently.

Wearing pink nylon shorts, a baggy white tank top, and flip flops, he continued to stare. Finally he spoke, “Hi Gail.” 

I reacted with contempt thinking, “Oh, Hell No!” If staying with him is what’s in store I’m not sticking around here. That’s when I shifted my eyes in the other direction, to my right where my son waited for me wading in the still, shallow water.

My son is very much alive, and I was glad to see him.

In tiny steps akin to a Tim Conway comedy skit, I made my move ignoring the guy on the seawall, shuffling instead toward my son.

Flash to the following morning when I awoke in the intensive care unit at the U hospital. With a tube forced down my throat, my wrists tied to the side bars, my daughter stood over me with worry etched in her face. She and the ICU nurse both spoke as I struggled to convey I wanted that plastic obstruction out of my wind pipe. 

This hospital stay extended to seven days, with a repeat admission shorty after due to a related complication. The holiday season fizzled out as I was in poor shape and trying to recover..

It now has been over two months since surgery and that strange vision. The intubation tube is long gone and I am sporting a colostomy bag with a slowly healing incision down the middle of my gut. Bye bye belly button. The Home Health nurses visited every day for nearly six weeks packing gauze into two fissures pitted along an incompletely healed stomach. 

On one particular visit the nurse explained that I had indeed been strapped to a hard foam-core table in the operating room. My head, torso and legs were firmly secured down so as not to move during the procedure. But in my mind I did visit another place, a vivid locale somewhere between giving in or fighting back.

This Tuesday I will celebrate my 71st birthday, and I truly welcome the day. I have children and grandchildren who all mean the world to me. Ahead there’s athletic events, recitals, graduations, and with a little luck a wedding or two.

Besides I can’t kick the bucket right now, I must do what I can to help save the Republic and see Trump behind bars.

There is still much to do.

A Meeting

The following is an excerpt from “Peer Review” a play. The setting is a home in Gettysburg Pennsylvania. The 47th president meets the 16th.

THE TALL MAN

We have all noticed your obsession with political enemies. Mr. Nixon has kept a

particularly close watch on this activity.

DJT

Nixon’s dead, and I don’t care. Look if people aren’t nice to me I’m not nice back. They

all think they’re so much smarter than me. Obama, the Clinton’s, that Puerto Rican chick

from New York. All jerks.

THE TALL MAN

Ha. The Army of the Potomac had generals who thought the same of me. (Pauses)That

reminds me of a time when a client came to my Springfield law office and hired me for a

patent case. The fellow paid a retainer, and I began research on the legal particulars.

Oddly enough I never heard another word about it. Later the newspaper said the trial had

been moved to Cincinnati, Ohio.

DJT crosses his arms pouting. The Tall Man

merely smiles.

THE TALL MAN

Well sir, I made the journey by train to attend that proceeding. To my surprise a new lead

attorney sat at the courtroom table, and pointedly ignored me. Later I learned he had

dismissed me as a long-lanked creature in a dirty coat. Of course my feelings were more

than a little wounded. However I remained in Cincinnati and observed the court

proceedings. There is always something to learn. That attorney, Edwin Stanton, made a

fine job of it, and I later made him my Secretary of War.

DJT

What the hell is wrong with you! All you dead guys are morons. Made him a Cabinet

Secretary. I would have made up a name, you know, like Pocahontas or Shifty Schiff and

never stopped hounding him. I’da ruined the guy.

THE TALL MAN

And that would have proven a mistake. Secretary Stanton proved a wise choice for his

management of the Union Army. Besides, in the words of Mr. Lyndon Johnson, again, it

is “Better to have your enemies inside the tent pissing out, than outside the tent pissing

in.”

The Tall Man laughs and slaps his leg.

THE TALL MAN

Stanton merited the post, as did most members of my cabinet, Seward at State, Chase at

Treasury, Blair as Postmaster General. They had been my competitors for the presidency,

and I appointed these men knowing full well they resented my election.

DJT

You’re crazy. I wouldn’t have let them in the White House. I’m still gonna get even with

the scumbags who stood in my way, DeSantis and Nikki Haley. May not be today, but I

will destroy them. I never forget.

THE TALL MAN

I required sound advice in a difficult time, and that these men were the best, except for

Simon Cameron. There was a scandal and he was undone. Deceivers like Cameron and

Floyd undo themselves. You could learn from their errors.

The Tall Man looks again at his writing, as DJT

speaks.

DJT

Who needs a cabinet anyway. Fill it with dopes who will do as I say. I’m in charge now.

THE TALL MAN

Americans are a free thinking people. Never will they all revere you as does a minority at

this particular moment. You, me, all of us have but a brief time in office. The American

people possess a truth beyond momentary and shifting opinions. Beyond a name on a

map America embraces noble ideals and accomplishes great things.

DJT

Just what I thought, a Rino. You liberals are what’s wrong with America.

THE TALL MAN

Ha. You foolish man. The whole idea of America is Liberal. This nation is the product of

the best political thinking of the 18th Century. It is the sovereignty of the people!

The Tall Man taps the pen on the desk top.

Mr. Madison crafted the Constitution and his Bill of Rights upon the rights of free people.

DJT

America doesn’t care about that anymore. Times have changed. I have changed it. They

want a strong man who gets shit done. Blacks, women, immigrants put back in their

place.

THE TALL MAN

You are mistaken. Only the people are the rightful masters . . .

Gail Chumbley is the author of the two-part memoir “River of January,” and “River of January: Figure Eight,” co-writer of the screenplay, “Dancing On Air” based own those books. She has penned three stage plays on history topics, “Clay” on the life of Senator Henry Clay, “Wolf By The Ears” examining the beginnings of American slavery, and “Peer Review” where 47 is confronted by specters of four past presidents.