Everyday is Friday

What date is it today? I thought as I flipped through the calendar, browsing the dates and the cool pictures that laid beside them. Tuesday? Or a wednesday. I think it’s Saturday. Or is it Thursday? I sat in my hospital bed, clutching the sides as a kind nurse stepped over, her hands soft as they stuck the needle into my wrinkled skin. Ow. I could hear the heart monitor pulse, just like my fading heart, slowly dying. A tray of breakfast was placed in front of me. Toast, and eggs, with a glass of milk. Just like the last day. The nurse said that today was a Friday. How was it a Friday? Just yesterday she pushed the needle into my skin, and gave me the exact same breakfast. How was everyday different from the other when nothing had changed? The nurses and doctors walked past, their shiny shoes still shining, their teeth still gleaming, their red lips as cold as blood. Every day. What’s this day? Oh, Friday. I remembered. I shakily put my hand on my shorn head, rubbing the nonexistent fuzz on my head. What did my hair look like before? Long, curly, with a bounce as I stepped into my home. What happened to my home? People go in, go out, as if nothing happened, as if the house wasn’t sold, as if I hadn’t had memories there, looks just like the same block house, like toy building blocks, there to be built and destroyed, again and again. Another nurse comes over, gives me another shot into my other arm. Ow. This was a Thursday, right? No. It was a Friday. How was it a Friday? The shot, the food, the memories flooding back.

I remembered my grandkids, running around the yard. Two climbed a tree. ONly one came back down. I fell. My wife didn’t. Opposites attract, then how come my life isn’t the opposite of what it is now? The delicious sip of milk from the cows, the toast made with the wheat we grew in our own backyard, the eggs from the clucking chickens. That’s the same. Everything is the same! I thought. What really happened when I came here? I remembered the date. A friday. Everything was a Friday. I had fell. I remembered the flashing lights screaming, HELP! HElP! But was it too late? The nurses stood above me again. “He’s twitching.” a woman said. Was I twitching? I always did that. But nothing was different. Nothing was ever different. 

The nurses left me with a doctor, staring through to my tube where the food went. What was he doing here? He was always here. Everything is the same! I screamed in my head. But no sound came out. Doctor! Doctor! I screamed. But he kept on humming, as he always did. No one could hear me. Everyday is a Friday. My hospital gown had ripped from too many times of twitching. Yet no one bothered to fix it. This is a hospital, though. Don’t they fix people? How could they fix me? Today is Friday. Yesterday is Friday. Is this date really Friday? I panicked, my breath sinking in my throat, I could see Jesus above me, whispering, Come to me, Jorna. It’s time. No! THis wasn’t how I would go away. I ripped off the cords and an alarm sounded. WeeOOH WeeOOH! The gown fluttered by my ankles. Today wasn’t a Friday. Yesterday was a Friday. The day before Friday was a Friday. Friday! I ran. Out the door, and then I saw the billboard. TODAY IS A FRIDAY. I sunk to my knees and screamed, screaming all the screams I couldn’t scream, screaming my memories, my hair, my everything. My children. I remembered waking up again. 

What date is it today? I thought as I flipped through the calendar, browsing the dates and the cool pictures that laid beside them. Tuesday? Or a wednesday. I think it’s Saturday. Or is it Thursday? I think it’s thursday. I sat in my hospital bed, clutching the sides as a kind nurse stepped over, her hands soft as they stuck the needle into my wrinkled skin. Ow. I could hear the heart monitor pulse, just like my fading heart, slowly dying. A tray of breakfast was placed in front of me. Toast, and eggs, with a glass of milk. Just like the last day. The nurse said that today was a Friday. How was it a Friday? Just yesterday she pushed the needle into my skin, and gave me the exact same breakfast. How was everyday different from the other when nothing had changed? The nurses and doctors walked past, their shiny shoes still shining, their teeth still gleaming, their red lips as cold as blood. Every day. Wait! I was back. In this spot. The nurses ran back and forth. Yes. No. I was bakc in that zone, I knew today wasn’t a Friday. I ran again. Out the door, no humming doctor. I ran out. The Billboard said, TODAY IS THURSDAY. I knew it! I ran out away from that Billboard, back to the hospital. “Today is Thursday! Today is Thursday!” I screamed. Wait. It wasn’t Thursday. Thursday was Friday, and Friday was Thursday. Then, “Today is no day!” Everybody fell silent. The nurses grabbed my heels and my head, carrying me to a machine. “What’s going on?” I said. The nurses smiled and put the cover on the machine. “Get me out!” I screamed. But my breath was running out. “Wait! Wait, wait,.” my voice faded away, and I fell. 

What date is it today? I thought as I flipped through the calendar, browsing the dates and the cool pictures that laid beside them. Tuesday? Or a wednesday. I think it’s Saturday. Or is it Thursday? I think it’s thursday. I sat in my hospital bed, clutching the sides as a kind nurse stepped over, her hands soft as they stuck the needle into my wrinkled skin. Ow. I could hear the heart monitor pulse, just like my fading heart, slowly dying. A tray of breakfast was placed in front of me. Toast, and eggs, with a glass of milk. NO! I was back in the reverie. I needed to find away to get out again. Instead of running, I motioned for a nurse to come over, she smiled and seductively took off her coat. I took the needle closest to me and stabbed it in her eye. Red splattered my eyes. I borrowed her scrubs and stepped out, pushing her into the bed. I finally escaped. I think. I believed so. The Billboard read TODAY IS TUESDAY. Yes. No. Today was Friday. But it wasn't Friday. It was what it wasn't.