On Ice.

On Ice.
(8-12-09)

On Ice. There are things you put on ice. Sore necks. Bad news. Hot tempers. Vodka. Dead bodies. All of which are among the countless uses for frozen water. My teeth start to chatter. I’m pretty certain my lips are blue. Hypothermia can set in the body in a matter of minutes depending on the temperature. Which in this instance the warmth in the room is anywhere in the vicinity of below 59 degrees and continuing to drop. Upon entrance to this walk-in freezer I disabled the controls to the thermostat in the hope it would extend my life while I wait.

As soon as I enter the room and secure the door behind me I began removing my shoes and clothing. I carefully step into the vat of ice. Delicately I submerge my torso inch by inch beneath the cold blanket of ice. The blood from my open wound spills out staining the ice. Slowly the flow of crimson begins to lessen. The waves of freezing set into my body as I wait. My skin takes on a new color and my face feels the blush of winter. My breathing is slower and shallow. I’m getting sleepy.

I’m not certain how long a person can live without a kidney and proper medical attention, but I wait. He promised he’d come. Follow shortly after I did. Rather after we did this. See you can’t cut out your own kidney. It requires assistance. Chance said, “I’ll be there in a matter of minutes behind you. Wait. Don’t do anything stupid. You can not risk your life. Just wait for me.” So I wait. Keep in mind. Neither of us are doctors. Actually Chance was excommunicated from the world of medicine for a similar abuse on school property during his last term as a med student. His calling as a surgeon washed away with one foolish irresponsible move. But we didn’t have time to find someone else. He gave me a local anesthetic and promised it would hurt like hell. Well, it didn’t tickle. Laugh. Smile. Wait.

Now why am I missing a kidney? Money. Of course, right? I would be thinking money. Not at all. It’s quite the contrary. To simplify it, Chance asked me for it. I agreed. What woman gives a man her kidney? A crazy one. I trust him with all my heart. This explains why I’m waiting here instead of the emergency room at the nearest hospital. This rationalization seems ridiculous when I think about it. The long story wasn’t much clearer in my opinion either. Chance returned home one night quite distraught. He wouldn’t speak to me or look me in the eye for over an hour. It was clear he wrestling with something in his mind and it was winning. When I could no longer bear to watch him suffer I grabbed him and refused to let go until he told me what was going on. “I need a kidney,” he says like it’s a gambling debt he has to repay. I can tell he’s quite serious though. I mention cadavers. He breaks free of my grasp and shakes his head no, moving his entire body in this denial. “It has to come from a person… a… a… a living person.” He’s terrified and shaking fiercely. “I don’t need to keep it. Just need it for a little bit. TONIGHT!” I walk over and hold him to stop the shaking. He whispers, “Its life or death. Mine.” I love him, so I offer. He declines. Pushes me away. I pause. He asks, “Are you sure? I won’t unless you are.” I am. We agree. He promises to come for me. So here I wait for him to return, with or without my kidney.

The icy bath has the rancor of death. Frozen slow death. It’s my blood mixing with the ice. Red, glistening, breathe taking, numb, creeping in without a warning. Chance, where are you? I think I’m dying. On ice. Alone. There’s not enough life in me for anger or sadness. It’s cold. Quiet. I trust him. My breathing has slowed even more. The precise hole in my torso has temporarily cauterized from the cold. I’m thankful that bleeding out isn’t what’s killing me. I manage to stay coherent a little longer. My eyes flutter. The door swings. Eyes closed then open. It’s Chance. Closed. Open. He’s bent over next to me with both hands fiercely digging in the ice to free me. I think it’s too late. Closed. Open. Red ice. Closed. Closed.



At the time I wrote this, I wanted so badly to write something. Now, I can tell you where the idea came from and not much more than that. Being the adventurous, free-spirited (and quite clumsy) person that I am, quite often I hurt or injure myself. This is putting it lightly. Without digressing too far, I had to ice my foot, directly an ankle, very late one night. After jumping off of a particularly high spot, I landed a bit off and ta-dah! Swollen ankle. No bruise. Yay. So laying in bed with my foot on ice... the idea unfolded. The next day this was brought to life.

Anyhow there's a couple more things I want to put up before the end of the year so keep reading. One is a promise I have yet to fulfill. Or so I think I promised. Did I? I don't know? haha. And I've gotten myself into a mini-dare situation. Which I'm quite excited about. Will share more about that later. And always I warn you all... 'I may use that in a story.' Enjoy! kisses. m.