I take my mom to a bunch of local doctors in preparation – as it's about to turn out – for a major heart operation. She does
a little of very slow walking while I do a lot of running.
Because it all takes place in a neat, compact
post-German town at some point we decide to part ways and I carry out this
embarrassing fuss about the body (comforting myslef that one can look at it as a little tribute to the soul) on my own, having left her somewhere in the local shade.
“Isn’t it ironic?”, it strikes me when I'm on my way between two health-care establishments, “A completely
healthy guy*, is doing all the running between the doctors, labs and chemists’
while the person who is actually ill relaxes on a bench in the park?”
*from what I see, but who knows - there may be a bunch of invisible
little fuckers, direct descendants of Adam and Eve’s sin, wreaking deadly
havoc in my entrails even as I speak.
