Yesterday you said tomorrow

It's the 6th night of his stay in the hospital. Everyday that passes feels longer than the day before that. Makes it feel like we've been here a lot longer than just under a week.

They say there are bloodclots in his brain and his heart, complications from a second deadly stroke.
By God's divine Providence and the wonder of modern medicine, the doctors don't have to crack his skull or tear his guts open to get to those clots and drain them. Tiny pink and white pills are taking care of that in a simple, yet delicate way.

Today was bright & lovely outside the cream-coloured walls of the hospital. Cars zoomed past, people going about their business, goals being pursued and targets being acquired.
I walked out to make a withdrawal from the bank across the road and was struck anew by the light, clean air in eastern Nigeria, which sharply contrasts with the supercharged, dust and smoke laden air in Lagos metropolis.
It's nice here...I can hear myself think.

I'm in one of those moods tonight. I'm restless. Like a Superbowl team quarterback locked in a cage minutes before the kickoff of a championship game; like a panther, forced to wait patiently for just the right moment of vulnerability before she strikes her oblivious yet overly active prey.

The nurse on night duty says she's running a second degree at a nearby university. "Isn't that too much for you, coupled with your practise?", I ask. "Nope," she firmly replies, flashing a wide grin and pretty dentition. "It gets rough sometimes but I wanna do it all now that the 'Ginger' is there. I'm young."
She's cool...for a nurse.

I want to sing. I want to scream at the top of my lungs just for the hell of it. There's so much I want to cram into these few yet fleeting years of youth and agility. There's so much I know I can accomplish. But I know I must start here and now.
Where I am.
With what I have.
So I've put pen to paper. This piece is for you and for me.
Yesterday you said tomorrow.
Start now.