Wit Page #6

Popsicles, ''Sweetheart.''

l can't believe my life

has become so corny.

But it can't be helped,

l don't see any other way.

We are discussing life and death, and...

not in the abstract, either.

We are discussing my life and my death.

And l can't conceive of any other tone.

Now is not the time for verbal swordplay.

Nothing would be worse

than a detailed scholarly analysis and...

erudition, interpretation, complication.

No.

Now is the time for simplicity.

Now is the time for...

dare l say it...

kindness.

And l thought being extremely smart...

would take care of it.

But l see that l have been found out.

l'm scared.

Oh, God.

l want....

l want to....

No.

l want to hide.

l just want to curl up in a little ball.

l want to tell you...

how it feels.

l want to explain it.

To use my words.

lt's just as if l can't.

There aren't....

l'm in terrible pain.

Susie says...

l need to be

in aggressive pain management...

if l'm going to stand it.

''lt.''

Such a little word.

l think in this case...

''it''...

signifies being alive.

Okay.

We've located Dr. Kelekian

and he's on his way here...

and we'll get you some meds.

God, it's so painful.

So much pain.

l know. Just try and relax

and clear your mind.

We'll get you patient-controlled analgesic.

lt's a little pump

with a little button and you press it...

and you decide how much

medication you want.

lt's very simple and it's all up to you.

Okay.

Dr. Bearing. Susie.

lt's time for patient-controlled analgesic.

The pain's killing her.

Dr. Bearing, are you in pain?

l don't believe this.

Get a morphine drip.

What about patient-controlled?

She'd be more alert.

Ordinarily yes. ln her case, no.

-But l think she would really rather--

-She's earned a rest.

Morphine. 10 push now

and start at 10 an hour.

Dr. Bearing, try to relax,

we'll help you through this.

Don't worry.

Excellent.

Hi.

How are you feeling today?

These are my last coherent lines.

l'll have to...

leave the action to the professionals.

lt came so quickly, after taking so long.

There's not even time

for a proper conclusion.

l trust this will have a soporific effect?

l don't know about that,

but it sure does make you sleepy.

What's so funny?

What?

lt's just....

lt's that ''soporific'' means...

''makes you sleepy.''

lt does?

That was sort of dumb.

No, it was funny.

Yeah? ln a dumb sort of way.

l'm glad you explained it to me.

l never would've thought of that.

l'm a teacher.

Yeah, she was a great scholar.

Wrote tons of books, articles.

She was the head of everything.

People used to hug the walls

when she passed.

She won't be drinking anymore, see if

we can keep her kidneys from fading.

l had a lot of respect for her.

More than l can say

for the entire bio-chem department.

-What do you want, dextrose?

-Give her saline.

She gave a hell of a lecture.

No notes, not a word out of place.

lt was impressive.

A lot of students hated her, though.

-Why?

-She wasn't exactly a cupcake.

She hasn't exactly been

a cupcake here either.

Miss Bearing, Jason and l are here,

we'll insert a catheter to collect urine.

-lt won't hurt, so don't worry.

-Like she can hear you.

-lt's just nice to do.

-Eight cycles of Hex and Vin at full dose.

Kelekian didn't think it was possible.

l wish they'd all go full throttle,

then we'd have some data.

She's not what l imagined.

l thought someone who studied poetry

would be more dreamy.

Not the way she did it.

Her course was more like

boot camp than English.

John Donne was incredibly intense.

Your whole brain

had to be in knots before you could get it.

-He made it hard on purpose?

-lt has to do with subject matter.

The Holy Sonnets we worked on mostly

were mainly about salvation anxiety.

That's a term l made up

in one of my papers...

but l think it fits pretty well.

He's this brilliant guy, l mean brilliant.

He makes Shakespeare

sound like a Hallmark card.

And you know you're a sinner.

There's a promise of salvation,

the whole religious thing.

But you can't deal with it.

-How come?

-Because it doesn't stand up to scrutiny.

But you can't face life without it,

so you write these screwed-up sonnets.

Like a game to make

the puzzle so complicated.

What happens in the end?

-The end of what?

-To John Donne. Does he ever get it?

-Get what?

-His salvation anxiety.

-Does he ever understand?

-No way.

The puzzle takes over.

You're not even trying to solve it anymore.

Fascinating, really.

Great training for lab research.

Looking at increasing levels of complexity.

-Until what?

-What do you mean?

Do you ever get to solve the puzzle?

No. When it comes down to it,

research is just trying to quantify...

the complications of the puzzle.

-You help people, you save lives and stuff.

-Sure, l save a guy's life...

and the poor slob goes out

and gets hit by a bus.

Yeah, l guess so.

l just don't think about it that way.

l guess you can tell

l never took a course in poetry.

lf there's one thing

we learned in 17th Century Poetry...

you can forget all about

that sentimental stuff.

Enzyme kinetics was more poetic

than Bearing's class.

Besides, you can't just go around...

thinking about that meaning-of-life stuff

all the time. You'd go nuts.

-Do you believe in it?

-Believe in what?

l don't know, the meaning-of-life stuff.

What do they teach you at nursing school?

She's out of it. Shouldn't be too long.

-You done here?

-Yeah, l'll just tidy up.

-See ya.

-Bye.

lt's Evelyn.

Oh, God.

Prof. Ashford?

Oh, God.

l'm in town visiting my great-grandson...

who is celebrating his fifth birthday.

l went to see you in your office...

and they directed me here.

l've been walking all over town.

l'd forgotten how early it gets chilly here.

l feel so bad.

Yes, l know you do.

l can see.

Oh, dear.

There, there.

There, there.

There, there, Vivian.

lt's a windy day.

Don't worry, dear.

Let's see.

Shall l recite something to you?

Would you like that?

l'll recite something by Donne.

No.

Very well.

Let's see....

''The Runaway Bunny,

by Margaret Wise Brown.

''Pictures by Clement Hurd.

''Copyright, 1942.

''First Harper Trophy edition, 1972.

''Once there was a little bunny

who wanted to run away...

''so he said to his mother,

'l'm running away.'

'''lf you run away,' said his mother...

'''l will run after you.

'''For you are my little bunny.'

'''lf you run after me,'

said the little bunny...

'''l will become a fish in a trout stream...

'''and l will swim away from you.'

'''lf you become a fish in a trout stream,'

said his mother...

'''l will become a fisherman,

and l will fish for you.'''

Look at that.

A little allegory of the soul.

Wherever it hides, God will find it.

See, Vivian?

'''lf you become a fisherman,'

said the little bunny...

'''l will be a bird and fly away from you.'

'''lf you become a bird

and fly away from me,' said his mother...

'''l will be a tree

that you come home to.'''

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