the air that i breathe

when I don't say anything here for a long time I miss it.

I need it.

I think about the things that happen in my life and I imagine myself writing them down in here. 
but I've been busy. or at least that's the excuse I make.

I never seem to get in the place where I belong.

I don't really tell people about this thing because it tends to hold a recurring theme.


     I finished the radiology program this month, passed my registry exam, and got my A.S. degree.
but it wasn't without struggle.

     when I walked into that test I felt genuinely unprepared. I burned through it in half the 3.5 hours they give and had flagged over 60 questions for review. I stood up and took  break then. I walked out of the room, drank some water, used the bathroom, looked out the window, stretched...

      then I went back in.

I was determined, but shaken. I'm not normally a confident test taker. in fact, only once did I hand in a test and say to the teacher, "that's an A". this time was no different. I couldn't get over the feeling that I was going to fail this test and blow the only thing I've been working for over the few years.

this whole thing means a lot to me because I feel that it's my last real chance to make something of myself. to make my mother proud. to make you proud. so I lost my mind in that little cubicle thinking that I was going to throw it all down the drain.

     so I asked for your help.
I asked for the clarity and strength I could always get from you when you would talk with me. I just asked you to be there for me.

then I went to work with the resolve of a man fighting to stay alive and changed many answers while cleaning up the mess of flagged questions I had left behind. by the time I was done there was only 15 minutes left of the 3.5 hours I had originally started with.

I pushed the submit button and felt that tingling feeling in my body I have felt so many other times when I feel like something is about to end. I pushed that button and it said I had gotten a 92, and that the passing score was a 75.

I had done it.


     I don't really remember driving home.
I was fucking tired. I had run myself dry trying to get everything done on time while still studying enough to get a passing score on this test I paid so much damn money to take.

but I can't be happy.


at graduation the next day all I could think about was how I wish you were there to cheer for me when they read my name.



I woke up this memorial day morning and decided to play some sad bastard country music. I listened to 'letters from home' and cried in my bed by myself thinking about the same thing again. so I decided that I would bring my cap to you so you could see it was true. so I could share something with you.

I'm fucking 33 years old and the only reason I am anything right now is because of you.


(I stared at that line trying to think of what else to say, but nothing came out... so I guess that's all for now)

time after

i take x-rays of babies in all states of health on a regular basis.
most of the time it doesn't affect me like it does others.

this day I went into the neonate intensive care unit to do an exam on a newborn.

nothing about it was different. the parents had been in and out, making worried/sanguine faces.
I was worried about doing the exam correctly.


during this time I was under tremendous pressure and scrutiny over my performance at work being lacking, so I was feeling as relaxed as a death row inmate waiting for that pardon call right before execution... and just as hopeful too.

I did the exam and was waiting while my accompanying tech did something on the computer behind me when I heard something in the next section over from where we were.

it sounded like singing.
singing and guitar playing.

I was curious so I walked closer until I could clearly hear the soft strings of an acoustic guitar accompanied by a velvet voice, softly singing 'time after time'.

she was leaned over her babies' bubble covered bed, sounding every bit as soulful as eva Cassidy herself.


(I have had an affinity for that specific song ever since my cousin was killed in the war when I was 20. without going much into that part of my life I will say that he loved it. a big tough marine infantryman loved that song, and I have always kept that memory of him to comfort me when I need it the most.)

     I stood there and it seemed as though everyone else had disappeared behind me.
I was admiring a private moment charged with so much underlying emotion that I didn't notice when I felt my eyes misting over the way a window pane does on a foggy winter night, and I was defenseless for a moment.


I stood there listening until I heard the world behind me come rushing back into view and I remembered I was in a hurry again.

I wiped my eyes and tried my best to get the far away look on my face from causing suspicion among the nurses and doctors bustling about the department and walked back to where my tech was sitting.

I went home later that day, like I do, and sat in my room that has slowly filled with memories over time and got my things ready for the next day.

(there was a moment that day when I felt uncertain if I would even be continuing in a program that I had spent the last few years of my life, and my only funds for school, trying to attain... but that one moment gave me a new resolve to continue. I always think of my cousin when I hear that song, and I have come to believe that he helps me when I really need it. it's a strange sign to look for, a Cyndi lauper song, but it comforts me more than anything in this life and will always assure me in the times when I feel defeated.)



I cried in the hospital like an idiot and told no one until right now.

"flashback, warm nights almost left behind, suitcase of memories, time after..."