STERILE TEARS ON INFECTED WOUNDS

Doctors confessions, and increased pulses of affection behind their white robes self defense

“LA PRIMAVERA “
(Italian: The spring)

Night had fallen, with a dark purple veil, seducing, getting from me off the despair of a crazy day and introducing the sorrow of my loneliness.
I returned at home hungry and tired, bringing out of fridge the remnants of yesterday’s soup.

Sitting on my bed, I compulsively remove the meshed pillows and I start to eat with my spoon searching pieces of sausage in a mass of potatoes I almost cooked, I almost considered them ready to be served. The sausage is full with fat and the potatoes are sour.
Hmmm…my wife always liked sour tastes…. Sour pickles and peppers... While she was pregnant she could not escape from those cravings.
She was ten years younger than me. We got married when she finished the school.
She always wanted to become a painter. She never had the chance. She was born in a village and her family underestimated the beauty of art. Unfortunately by her husband too.
She was always emotionally dependent to her village and the closed small town where we had met. She never liked the Capital, we soon moved some months after our marriage.
“I wish we could go back to our small town…”she was whispering while sitting on my knees the first days we arrived in the flat I am sitting now enjoying this terrible soup.
“I don’t wish that my sweet Primavera.” I answered drinking a snap of palinka. ” For me the decision to come was the best I could do. In fact I could do everything to leave the town. And what glamorous chance I gain my dear! To work in the Famous hospital of the Capital…to meet the Famous doctors of our beautiful country! Valuable chances for research, trips, international conferences! I could never imagine something better for my self…and I think is never late for you, to start getting informations about the Art education opportunities here. “
“Miklos, I need your help too. I don’t know this city so good. Could you come with me?”
“Please don’t allow to yourself the pitty to ask me to come! You are clever just you need some milligrams of.. selfconfidence “
Primavera was suffering from hypofunction of this elementary caracteristic of human’s personality the day her father put on fire “La primavera” to warm his bedroom, during a cold snowdragged winter.
”La Primavera” was her first attempt to reveal the artistic passion, despite the objections of her parents. Their dreams were limited to see her wearing a white Polka dress and to marry a good-looking doctor. She did it.
I weakly remember that painting…there were reflections of sun floating their shine over a harvest of poppies, in bright red, with their slimy shapes twisting in wind’s kisses and sun’s caresses… “La Primavera” her first painting, her eternal name, just for me.
It was the only statement that could dry her tears the night of the massacre of the piece of Art.
We shared a bottle of beer to smooth the pain… and from that day we include this activity to all of our next rendezvous.
“La Primavera “ !
That name stayed recorded to my mind, even when the poppies died, the harvest dried and changed his colours to yellow the beginning of last June. Primavera disappeared from earth not to return back as every year the end of the winter…
When I finished the medical school I was searching the way to leave behind of me harvests of poppies and the town and run after a better future including better bars, cleaner drinks. It was not easy. For some months the best I could do was to let myself floating over illusions of freedom some bottles of alcohol offered to my deprived existence…
Somehow, my choice was gynecology for the next steps of my medical career.
One day I got THE chance: I was invited for an interview by the Famous professor of the Famous hospital, after his appreciation over an old article I wrote about the prevention of intrapartum hemorrhage. My decision to accept the invitation and the career offered in that hospital was totally unaffected by my parents and my friends sorrow, my colleagues surprised faces. I cannot still remember what did they say to me, which were their advices, which were my objections… and why Primavera went to her family in the village and we didn’t speak for a week… My ears were sedated by the vanity of the Famous hospital, the invitation of the Famous professor.
My memory was selective enough to remove endless discussions, conflicts and concerns and to keep the bright face of the train ticket officer, who gave to me his best wishes, while I was paying the “ONE WAY “ type.
Two days before my trip, Primavera ringed my doorbell, speechless, cold and pale by rum’s white poisoning, holding her own ticket for the same train.
Still I don’t remember what we discuss... If we discuss…

Two weeks after our arrival to the city, the Famous hospital honored me with a lustrus celebration party, in a glamorous hotel, on a glamorous terrace, with a glamorous tasteless dinner and glamorous boring, repetitive live music. Everyone was Famous… Everyone was smiling and drinking fruit flavored vodka …oh yes! I remember quite well the sweet taste of vodka and their stupid smiles. But … nothing else. Primavera didn’t come with me. Maybe she was not invited.
I started working three days after. The conditions were hard and the salary nihilistic.
Soon, night and day changed time’s dimensions in my perception… as cruely as it happened for life and death. I never face their alternation so quickly. So many women, waiting to return home with an empty belly…my bloody hands revealing babies’ coronas in routine deliveries and expelling babies’ remnants in routine therapeutic abortions.
I was an exhausted refugee to Primavera’s arms the nights I had the chance to return home and enjoy with her a frozen drink. I had no energy to eat, no energy to speak, no energy to hear how was her day.
How was her day? I often wonder. As far as I think she never visit any Art University, she preferred to stay at home and cooking her favorites pancakes. She was not drinking alone, she was waiting for me.
My Famous colleagues were invited me to Famous clubs and parties with flavored vodka and Famous beautiful women. I met better with some of them, we shared the end of the night and the breakfast of the next morning in fancy cafeterias.
Sometimes, I start my day in the hospital with a sweet flavor of fruit on my shirt. I could not differentiate if it was a drop from that marvelous vodka or an expensive intense perfume of the woman I shared with her my impulsive desires and my morning coffee.
Primavera got pregnant the beginning of Mai…
I cannot recall how she announced it to me…Maybe I was drunken. Again. But I was surely glad about it. Or almost glad...
Maybe I was not anymore excited by pregnancies; they became part of my daily routine.
She was visiting sometimes her home, for a couple of days, which soon became weeks, and a bit later a whole month…
It was last June; during a rainy warm night I found a piece of paper on the table “I WILL TRAVEL BACK HOME. I WILL NOT COME BACK. I AM SO SORRY. ALL THE BEST “
I open a bottle of red wine and soon I got asleep in the chair.
I woke up suddenly around 4 o clock from the disgusting ringing of my phone…it was my mother who never used to suffer from insomnia.
“ Miklos... Miklos, you stupid jerk, your wife is in the hospital.”
“The Famous hospital?”
“Get up immediately! Are you still always drunken? She was here, close to us…she lost so much blood…you must come as soon as possible”

Then I remembered I was standing, with my arms locked on my chest, in a white room, close to a body once belonged to Primavera…Her face was white and pale as the day she knocked my door with the ticket for the same train. Her abdomen was flat and scaly…my lovely artist, she always had dried skin…but how thin she was…her abdomen could not be bigger, she just reached the first three months of pregnancy…I was not really interesting for the reasons Primavera left with her child in heaven…The paper they gave me had the series of letters INTRAPARTUM HEMORHAGE! Well! I knew what it is about! Why they showed that paper to me? My research plan gave me all the necessary knowledge for this medical complication and I didn’t need to read more about it. I had no reason to stay more in the white room... besides; the next day I had a nightshift.

So, I return back…to find the windows of that flat still opened…and some empty bottles driven by the rains strong wind on the floor.

And from that day I am quite angry with my self! How foolish I was to forget the windows opened! I could get robbed so easily! I was lucky to avoid it but so stupid not to be careful about my home’s safety!

How easily I forget the last days! It looks like I didn’t visit the Famous hospital because they were searching for me for long time in my cell phone. I think I throw it away from the opened windows…I didn’t work the night duty and most probably any of the next I had committed to.
Oh my God! I have so many empty holes in my brain, persons, events, people I met and speak with, but the last days I cannot bring to my mind even their faces! Why this dust obscures my memory? I hope it will not last forever…
Last night I was glad I am getting better…I had a dream I remember quite well. I was in my town; I recognized the harvest of poppies. The poppies were dead, the harvest dried and changed his color to yellow…Then I realized it was the beginning of that June I visited last time the town...
Primavera disappeared from earth not to return back as every year the end of the winter…but, why?
I don’t remember write now…does someone of you know? Can some of you help me to recall?

This is the first post.

Welcome.