Saturday, March 20, 2010

79. On the slippery slope

Pat had always been such an enthusiastic traveller, the first one to pull out the box of creased maps, the first one to dream of wending and clambering. It broke Eric’s heart to see her reduced to this. The trip from London had been horrendous, with her constant inability to catch breath.

And the medical profession had been less than forthcoming.

‘We think there are flakes of muscle which are dislodging and flying around the lung blocking the alveoli.’

Her quality of life was bordering on non-existent, and all this in less than six months. How can thirty four years boil down to this - pushing a wheel c hair across Castlereagh Street when just last Christmas they had planned to travel by four wheel drive to the Red Centre? And the camels, yet again Pat’s idea.

The awareness in Pat’s otherwise dull eyes, brought him down with a thud.

A member of the Weekend Writer's Retreat


Calico Crazy said...

Julie, this speaks to me on levels I can't even begin to explain here. Thanks for sharing your writing again.

diane said...

You made me cry.

Vicki said...

Evocative writing, Julie. Heart-rending.

Grandma said...

Speaking from experience, it is truly difficult to have a dramatic loss of physical capabilites. But I think it's even harder for those who have to watch it. You've done a wonderful job of capturing these emotions.

The next installment of Convictions has posted. Hope you'll stop by.

Silver James said...

Julie, what an evocative image--both the photo and the story you told with your writing. Conveying depth of character and scene in 150 words is an achievement. Congratulations.

Alice Audrey said...

So frightening, how quickly our bodies can turn on us.

Excellent writing.

Susan Helene Gottfried said...

A year ago, I said to my kids that we were going to keep taking active vacations until I wasn't able to anymore. THEN we'd go lay on the beach.

So, yeah. I totally get this piece, in places I'd rather not have to face. Nicely done.

Joan Elizabeth said...

Ugh ... the fragility of life captured in 150 words.