I’m sitting in Susan’s office like I do every Wednesday. Everything is the same as it is when I visit—the fabulous fashion magazines, Harper’s, some issues of the New England Medical Journal, photos of her boyfriend in trendy frames, watery iced latté from Starbucks clutter her desk along with the keyboard and gigantic monitor. She likes her Vogues, lattés, and boyfriend, but I think reading the New England Medical Journal is a chore for her, that she’s in the wrong job. I overheard her say to another medical student that she came from a family of doctors and she was doing what was expected of her. I don’t think she’d tell Dr. Souza this. I know Susan is jealous of the Gold Lady, even if she wouldn’t admit it.
Continue reading “Resplendence: Journal 9”
I’m leaving the hospital for good. You’ll probably say, “Yeah, it’s not the first time you’ve talked about leaving.” That’s just it. I’ve always talked about it, hoping the Gold Lady would drive down from Santa Monica and take me away. But she keeps telling me this is something I would have to do myself, that I would have to come to her. So I did what you normally do, pretend to take my pills and flush them down the toilet when I had to go to the bathroom. I’m feeling a little sick right now, but I think I’ll be OK.
(Left) The Gold Lady doesn’t have a halo when she is in her human form, but I think the halo makes her look very complete. (Lower right corner) The Gold Lady’s lethal, ass-kicking shoes. Silk crepe scarf to go with the dress on the (lower) left.