Does anyone remember The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the 8th Dimension? Quirky Sci-Fi movie from 1984. Peter Weller, John Lithgow, Clancy Brown, lots of other great actors. Half of my vocabulary comes from this movie (Laugh it up, Monkey Boy).
There’s a scene where Buckaroo opens the boundaries between dimensions and drives his car through a mountain. He proves that many realities exist in the same physical space. Just find the right side-step and you’re face to face with weirdness. I understand Buckaroo’s disorientation a little better now.
Tuesday, my mom went to the hospital for an angiogram. Her docs thought she might have some heart problems and wanted to get a good picture of her blood vessels. One minute my sister and I were joking with her about our double chins as we waited to start the procedure. The next minute the doctor was telling us he had no idea why she was near death.
Hospital waiting rooms must qualify as another dimension. Time functions differently—speeding up when the doctor shows up, slowing down between the five-minute visits inside the ICU. Several new languages must be learned—Doctor-Speak, Endless Speculation, and the abbreviated answer to “how is she?”.
The senses work differently in this dimension, too. The colors in the jigsaw puzzle I’m working seem alive, blasting with color. But the smells in the cafeteria hardly register. Light ranges from stark fluorescents in the halls to ambient murkiness in Mom’s room. Sounds are muffled—the shush of crepe soles, laughter far away, the gentle few bars of Brahms’ Lullaby over the intercom whenever a baby is born. It’s all very odd.
Even when I leave the hospital, I’m still caught in its vortex. I talk to my friends, feed my cats, eat supper, but all done on the wrong side of the dimensional barrier. I’m wrapped in a space suit of Hospital Waiting Room and can’t quite touch my own reality. Which seems right. Moving through dimensions must have repercussions. I’ll just stay here for the duration and acclimatize. I’m afraid I’ll be back soon enough.
SandySue Altered
May 16, 2013 @ 06:18:24
Wow, you have articulated this experience brilliantly–any movement between dimensions is exhausting! I’m sorry your mom is so sick, Sandy. I’ll be sending love your way–and her way, as well.
Hugs,
Kathy
May 16, 2013 @ 09:16:19
I’m on the hospital computer now on my way over to read your posting. Soooooo glad to hear your voice again.
May 16, 2013 @ 08:19:48
Sandy, your description of the hospital vortex is one we can all relate to. It’s an odd sort of place, yet its understood in some strange way. I hope that your mother’s condition can be diagnosed soon, and that during this time of waiting, good and important conversation can happen for you all. I send positive energy and love your way… praying for good things for all of you.
May 16, 2013 @ 09:15:11
Catching all those rays as they fly up from the south.
May 16, 2013 @ 09:46:14
Sending Blessings and Prayers to your Mom and all of those who love her!
May 16, 2013 @ 10:03:55
Hello my darling. I am hugging you.
May 16, 2013 @ 14:56:03
I’m not familiar with that movie, but it sounds interesting,. I’m a fan of John L. Please keep us posted on your mom! Love and hugs…
May 16, 2013 @ 19:32:08
thanks, Barb.
May 16, 2013 @ 15:13:30
Oh no! I stopped by, expecting a light-hearted treatise about old movies, and now this. How is she doing? I’m so sorry your mom isn’t doing well. Sending healing thoughts and prayers your way.
May 16, 2013 @ 19:32:57
See how I dovetailed with your post today? Those blogs you love, but feel burdened by. You’re welcome.
May 16, 2013 @ 18:13:23
I hear you…will be praying, too.
May 16, 2013 @ 19:33:19
Thank you, Jonathan.
May 16, 2013 @ 18:14:26
Reblogged this on By the Mighty Mumford and commented:
ANOTHER SOMETIMES UNWELCOME DIMENSION.
May 17, 2013 @ 03:25:36
Love to you & your Mother & your family. Your ability to share with us at times when others would or could not is your gift to us…you have great strength and ability to communicate, see things others do not bother to see…thank you Sandy Sue x
May 17, 2013 @ 09:35:09
Thank you, my darling. Mom is listed as “serious” instead of “critical” today. Physical therapy will try to sit her on the side of the bed a bit later. Baby steps.
May 21, 2013 @ 22:21:11
What Moss Piglet said: that’s what I wanted to say about your writing, and about your writing about this. My Goodness and thank you.
May 21, 2013 @ 22:49:20
And may I say I love your comments and the smash-up of words and images that create something I’ve never experienced. It’s a new form of poetry, Linda, what you do.