One year ago at this hour I still didn't know you were dead. I was rushed to the hospital the night before with stomach pains, not knowing that you were in the hospital too. You were getting surgery in the same part of the body where I felt like knives were stabbing at me over and over again. At one point during the night I genuinely thought I was going to die from the pain. The doctors gave me morphine, but it didn't help. I was crying, sweating, screaming, my body convulsing from the pain, without the slightest idea that you had run into a truck on the highway around the same time I collapsed at the airport and at that very moment you were slipping away. Finally, the doctors had enough and decided to give me a big enough dose of morphine to knock me out so I would get a break from the suffering. They stuck a big needle in my arm, and then my thigh. After a little while I started feeling the pain ebbing away. I gasped for the biggest breath I've ever taken in my entire life. Then, bliss. That's when the phone rang. Dennis said, "It's Luigi, how strange. Do you want to talk to him?" I said "Of course, he is probably worried sick because I'm in the hospital." Except Luigi didn't know I was at the hospital. And when I tiredly told him "Don't worry amor, I'm ok, the pain just left me" he answered "What?" and I knew something was wrong. "Andrea had an accident." He said. "A bad one." I didn't understand. An accident? Is she ok? Can I talk to her? He paused, and for a second everything was so quiet. So quiet. Then he said one word. "Falleció." I dropped the phone. The word echoed in my head with the sound of a thousand trucks hitting a car on the wrong side of the road on the way to San José and even though I speak Spanish fluently I've never used that word before but I knew what it meant. I knew what it meant I knew but I decided that no, just no. No. I'm going to go to sleep. So I slept. The next morning I had surgery. I woke up, groggily wondering what falleció meant and why it was edged into my brain. It was all I could see. All I could hear. Falleció. Falleció falleció falleció. Maybe I'll call Andrea later and ask, I thought. Yes. She will know.

yoga_girlさん(@yoga_girl)が投稿した動画 -

レイチェル・ブレイセンのインスタグラム(yoga_girl) - 3月12日 05時50分


One year ago at this hour I still didn't know you were dead. I was rushed to the hospital the night before with stomach pains, not knowing that you were in the hospital too. You were getting surgery in the same part of the body where I felt like knives were stabbing at me over and over again. At one point during the night I genuinely thought I was going to die from the pain. The doctors gave me morphine, but it didn't help. I was crying, sweating, screaming, my body convulsing from the pain, without the slightest idea that you had run into a truck on the highway around the same time I collapsed at the airport and at that very moment you were slipping away. Finally, the doctors had enough and decided to give me a big enough dose of morphine to knock me out so I would get a break from the suffering. They stuck a big needle in my arm, and then my thigh. After a little while I started feeling the pain ebbing away. I gasped for the biggest breath I've ever taken in my entire life. Then, bliss.
That's when the phone rang. Dennis said, "It's Luigi, how strange. Do you want to talk to him?" I said "Of course, he is probably worried sick because I'm in the hospital." Except Luigi didn't know I was at the hospital. And when I tiredly told him "Don't worry amor, I'm ok, the pain just left me" he answered "What?" and I knew something was wrong. "Andrea had an accident." He said. "A bad one." I didn't understand. An accident? Is she ok? Can I talk to her? He paused, and for a second everything was so quiet. So quiet. Then he said one word. "Falleció." I dropped the phone. The word echoed in my head with the sound of a thousand trucks hitting a car on the wrong side of the road on the way to San José and even though I speak Spanish fluently I've never used that word before but I knew what it meant. I knew what it meant I knew but I decided that no, just no. No. I'm going to go to sleep. So I slept.
The next morning I had surgery. I woke up, groggily wondering what falleció meant and why it was edged into my brain. It was all I could see. All I could hear. Falleció. Falleció falleció falleció. Maybe I'll call Andrea later and ask, I thought. Yes.
She will know.


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