Unrelenting Cruelty Part One

I have undergone a few spinal surgeries. I had two spinal fusions and a spinal implant totaling close to 1 million in costs and the promise of more surgeries for the rest of my life. My surgeries happened after I came back to the U.S and for two of the three I had no one. The funny thing is my surgery happened around COVID when everyone realized the fragility of life given that friends, family members, and other loved ones were dying at such a shockingly high rate and dying in what we determined as one of the most undignifying manners; cut off from loved ones and in a cold sterile hospital where the last thing they saw were fragments of humans whose faces were shrouded by N95 masks. As I laid on the bed, staring at the ceiling, wheeled into my second surgery, it set in that if I experienced any complications from the surgery, if these were my last moments, then all I would remember was isolation, pain, and the torment of other people’s narcissistic wants. The dopamine quelled the fears from turning into a full-on anxiety attack and as I counted back from ten as the anesthesia kicked in, it solidified that the unrelenting cruelty of the last few years had carcinogenic effect on every memory I had previously. We all imagine that when our life flashes before our eyes, we will see moments filled with laughter, joy, and peace; that we will remember what love felt like through warm embraces, words, or even how people look at you; but we never imagine that the aftershock of someone’s abuse would permeate every memory; that we would be able to count on one hand the last time we felt love, valued, or worth instilled over the last few years; and that the last thing we would see is a fragmented life shattered by someone’s sadistic and malicious hatred. I survived.