Spring/Summer 2013

reeds growing against a blue-blue sky

Surrender

The clinic door clicks behind me. Yes, it’s still unlocked. The smell of fresh water breathes me to the open window where I let down my handmade rope made of bandages knotted together. I lower myself to...
sign reads short cut to toilets

The Low Talker

          I suppose this story really begins when several months ago I noticed bubbles in my urine.  Not all the time, but occasionally.  What alerted me was a story in the New York Times weekday edition.  I ...
lunch tray of asian food

Air Hunger

When I arrive, a sign is already posted outside my mother’s private room—Airborne Infection: Isolation—and an open box of sterile masks is meaningfully mounted on the wall.  I take one and strap it on, feel it ...
three family members deep under a tree in the forest

Faith

(for N. and N.)  Lenore didn’t personally experience it, the first several times. Still, anyone could see the woman made something happen. She had the gift: some few just do. You might come in only half‑believ...
wahsing pans and glasses in a kitchen sink

Cleaning for Cancer

Every spring, before Passover I wash pots and wipe down shelves, scrub syrup stains and sweep pretzel crumbs. Open bags are examined for ants and embalmed in plastic. Out of date items tossed. Eve...
cabin on a lake

Lake Silverthorn

(for G.W.) Uncle Greg owned a three-room cottage on Lake Silverthorn near Hayward, Wisconsin. When my family was young we went there many summers and used his john boat or cast off the floating dock for...
historical photo of an iron lung

Historical Archive

Introduction to the historical archive- Each issue of Hospital Drive features an online exhibit of the Historical Archive of the University of Virginia Health Science Library.  Follow this link http://exhibi...
rose red coral reef

Surfacing

—for my mother  No, I didn’t remember that: sitting on the toilet while you pushed the tube back into my gut, my best friend watching from the door. We’d been playing caterpillar house all morning. I ...
spaghetti close up

Sixth Birthday: The Transparent Model Man

Six-year-olds shouldn’t know the brain is spaghetti and the cranium is the bowl. Or that the heart is not a doily-trimmed valentine. Or under every smile and frown the skull’s poker face waits. They shoul...
Matroyshka Dolls

Madame Alexander Doll

I thought I was a china doll, Madame Alexander’s Cissette I got for Christmas, pieces of me were just chipping off. Not a Russian Matroyshka Doll with smaller versions inside, sweaters removed after a w...