
The Time I Led A Code at the Airport
The strangest thing I see is the transition between deadness and aliveness, the way this man’s face gets filled again as though with something. Continue reading The Time I Led A Code at the Airport
The strangest thing I see is the transition between deadness and aliveness, the way this man’s face gets filled again as though with something. Continue reading The Time I Led A Code at the Airport
Una pareja, una Boricua y un Americano, tiene un bebé, pero algo ocurre. ¿Tú sabes cómo a veces dices una mentira y se sigue complicando, y crece tanto la ficción que lo envuelve todo? Continue reading Pequeña mentira blanca
Cada vez tenía menos tiempo de poder ir a visitarla. Mis llamadas eran más breves; sus respuestas iban desmereciendo. Cuando le pedía que le dijeran que la quería, me respondían mis familiares, “ella lo sabe”. Cuando le pedía que le dijeran que la iría a visitar contestaban, “Ella te espera.” Continue reading Arroz y habichuelas
“Code Blue, TICU” That was David. I rushed to his room as part of the Trauma Team, not really knowing what was going on. His lips were gray and there was not the slightest hint of red on his cheeks. His pulse was faint and erratic. The multiple sensors attached to his body displayed a desperate SOS. His oxygen saturations were low. SOS. His blood pressure kept dropping. SOS. He was cold. Continue reading Code Blue
Tenía sus propias teorías sobre lo que la aflijía, sobre cómo funcionaba todo en el cosmos dentro del cual existía arropada por el manto de su piel, tal si sus padecimientos fueran resultado de sus manualidades – sus nudos de macramé. Continue reading Pasillo