DOZ Issue 33 July 2018 - Page 31

Your Body is a Temple Pool of Blood PamFord Davis In a haze of semi-consciousness, I begin to open my eyes. “Do you think it’s something you ate?” Where am I? Ron, a vegetarian, did not share in that portion of yesterday’s meal; he’s eager to agree with my speculation. I slowly focus on a swath of familiar brown, burgundy, and green of my living room sofa. With great effort, I lift my face to the sickening sight of a pool of blood beneath me. In fear, I cry out. “Ron, help! I’m hurt! I’m bleeding!” Awakened by my desperate pre-dawn plea, he runs from the back bedroom and bends over my rag- doll body. “What happened?” “I don’t know. I wanta’ throw up.” He hustles to the hallway bathroom, dampens a washcloth and returns. Lifting my head, he painstakingly washes fresh and caked blood from my face and mouth. “Can you get up?” “I think so. I feel so sick.” He lifts me from the floor, steadies me with the strength of his body, and moves me to a nearby recliner. “Get me a trash can ta’ throw up in!” Dry heaves do little to ease my waves of nausea and dizziness. “Maybe; it might be the roast beef.” “Throw out the rest!” I begin to retrieve memories of the night before and share a summary with Ron. After church Wednesday night prayer meeting and Bible study, we had watched an old movie before going to bed. I dealt with anxiety over possibly having to tell a friend something that might hurt her feelings. With rapid heartbeat, it was difficult to get comfortable, still my mind, and fall asleep. Restless, I did eventually doze off. Pre-dawn, that morning, I awoke. Opening my eyes, I saw the time on the alarm clock atop the stand beside me. The large, luminous 5:10 means I overslept. Hating an upset in my regular morning regiment, I jumped from our bed, grabbed my cell phone and rushed to the kitchen to make morning tea. Standing at the counter, I plugged in my phone to recharge the battery. A sudden rush of nausea overwhelmed me. My head felt as if it was in a vice and I sensed the likeliness of fainting. I hastened to retrace my steps from the kitchen but barely made DOZ Magazine July 2018 31 «