Bite Shift

4

When you walk down the back stairs, past the morgue and out the little door in the back, you'll find my favorite spot. As macabre as it sounds, our hospital is next to a cemetery. The graveyard has been there for over a century. That means more than one person looked at the land next to it and said yep, that's the perfect place for a hospital. Now, if you're one of the lucky patients with a back room, you can look out of your hospital bed into a graveyard. I cannot imagine what that is like for someone getting a terminal diagnosis.... "I'm sorry to tell you that the lump is, in fact, cancer. Try to relax and enjoy the view. That's where you'll be soon anyway."

Because of the gravestones, many of the staff would not come out to the rear of the hospital. If they did, they would have found a small patch of grass with a black iron bench. Above the bench is a tree. I couldn't have told you what kind of tree it was, just that its branches reached out over the little bench, like it was protecting the spot. The autumn was starting to turn the leaves into red and yellow. It really was my favorite time of the year. The smell in the air was a mix of fireplaces and dry grass.

My iPhone was in my lunch box and I checked for messages. None. Everything must be good with the girls at their Dad's house. I pulled open the music app and hit the Classical channel. The app pulled up music it thinks you may like and that night was a good choice. Moonlight Sonata danced through the night air and immediately my stress melted away.

The last food I would eat on this Earth was packed into one of the few Tupperware containers that I hadn't lost. It was the spaghetti that was not eaten at last night's dinner, a slice of wheat bread and cucumber slices. That about sums up my luck.... my last meal as a human was cold leftovers.

I realized that I forgotten to pack a fork and started picking up noodles with pieces of bread. Two bites in and I was telling myself that I would start my diet tomorrow, for sure that time. Along with a fork, I had forgotten to pack a napkin so I wiped my mouth on the inside of my scrub top. This is why I am single, I thought.

The spaghetti did nothing for my hunger and I turned to the cucumber. Suddenly, I wished I had packed a few of the girls' cookies or a soda. The need for sugar was overwhelming but the cucumbers would have to do. I would not slip into my forties with love handles and no one to love them.

Beethoven faded away into the night and Holst took over. A French horn played a few notes that feel like longing for something lost. I recognized the piece. It was one of the planets. The knowledge of which planet it represented was somewhere in my brain but it couldn't be accessed on command anymore. Come on, brain, high school band.... We went to the Kennedy Center to hear this performed... you know this.

"Venus," I shouted to the air and realized no one is there to hear my genius. Oh well, I knew that I got it right and could be proud. I rewarded myself with another cucumber and laid my head to rest on the back of the bench. The iron was cold but its solid strength felt comforting, like it would hold be all night if I wanted. A violin took up the lead. The notes felt reminiscent of a time when I was full of passion and every moment of life was an experience to be treasured. Suddenly, I felt grief for the girl that I used to be; the girl who felt her future was full of the kind of love that made violins play in your head.

It was hard to believe the stress of my job was only steps away. The bench seemed miles apart from the ringing of call bells. My heartbeat started to match the pace of the movement and swelled with every instrument in the orchestra. The air around me was clear and cool. I was lost in the music. Too lost to hear the snapping of a stick behind me.