Julia Calderon-Kawasaki

Emerald Seamoore'


     The light of the sun reflects the snow into my eyes in the crisp cold Kansas weather.  The big sky becomes nature's open canvas of different shades of blues, cottony clouds of all shapes and the intense yellow and white sun rays that pierce and reach all living creatures.  The open fields run for miles and miles letting winds of the south sea come through touching and hugging the body.
     Embraced in the salty wind of the south, I found myself missing the sea.  The deep shades of blues and the reflection of the sun rays on the water.  The waves capture the rays and dance: 'one, two, three, one, two three . . .' the waves leading the rays.  A marine botanist's heaven, a womb full of life; giant kelp, plumes of Japanese sargassum, corals, Moorish idol, Medusa jellyfish, and many more.

     I dashed through the open canvas and into the Fine Arts Center for my Intro. to Rhetoric and Speech class.  Today we are giving self introductory speeches.  I thought of what I could say, and how.  My background?  What I like?  What I do? hmm . . .  Entering the building, darkness took over my vision.   I dove into a dense kelp forest. Only a glimpse of the sun came through the space between the kelp forest deep down inside.  An Azure Halo shines in the fantastic dark world where the light fraction creates a soft iridescence.  A Moorish idol caught my eye.  White with black.  The white was not as bright as that of the sun reflecting the snow.
      A sweat shirt?  On the floor?  No!  A person lying on the floor. Coldly. . .  The floor that would not be noticed becomes a part of the experience.  The grayish blue carpet supports and hugs the woman softly. The lubricated, warm, soft kelp holds her within the amniotic sac so that she does not hurt herself.  The student, hardly breathing like a Moorish idol out of water.  Flipping, convulsing gasping for air.  The young woman lies helplessly struggling  to keep alive.  The subconscious mind fights not to become a dry coral. She completely absorbs herself to fight.  Not being aware of her physical condition and surroundings she tries to free herself.  I stood there looking at her.  I knew I could not do anything for her. I saw myself lying there. The way I must have looked,  when I had a seizure.

     A Canadian Summer day.  Full of dense forests, grassland, and tundras.  It is full of yellow, white, red pines, hemlock, white and black spruces and white birches growing tall and dense. Green, luscious, clear and clean.  A day in which one would just want to spread its wings to fly.  A Canadian Jay  takes off!  I spread mine to go to Boston, Massachusetts to see friends and family.  I stood at the sea shore.  Dry, dead and smelling of all those deposits from the great womb.  I waited in the lounge to board the plane.  

     The young woman still lying on the ground unconscious.  The nurse checks her pulse and breathing. A slight relief appears on her face as the young woman starts to breathe again.

     I wanted to be free. I wanted to be like the Canadian Jay.  I kept thinking of my worries and stress. To be free of the enormous responsibilities and commitments that weighed on my shoulder.  Buying my new aqua Honda civic hatch back, the possibility of owning a house in Peterborough, Ontario, and the endless walks for miles and miles to find it.  I spent countless hours in the gym trying to keep in shape.  The fungus, flies and garbage problem in the new apartment I had moved into.  Above all, the sleepless night thinking of my loved ones and about personal growth.  All alone in this world with no one to support and help me.  I tried to be an adult.
     An announcement came through the speakers.
- Air Canada flight 25 is now boarding for general passengers.
     I proceeded towards the entrance that would eventually change my life. A dance between life and death. The fight to be free.
     I started to board the DC10.  I wore a red hugging T-shirt, purple Umbro shorts, a purple and aqua baseball Avenor cap, and my favorite purple and aqua Nike duffel bag.  I walked into the plane thinking how great it will be to take off.  What a wonderful time I will spend with my friend and family.  I longed to see the hilly and densely green Massachusetts.  
     I looked at my boarding ticket stub to match the seat number.  16A. I put my duffel bag into the overhead compartment and stared at the seat. THE SEAT.  The seat that would release me of all my worries. I told myself,
- Father in heaven, when I sit on this chair please let me let go of all my worries and stress so that they remain in Canada for me to be free and able to enjoy my vacation. Amen.  
     I made a cross on my chest and kissed the prayer out to the sky.

     I sat in the chair.  SPLASH!  I fell into the dense kelp forest. I lost everything. The tension began. The dance of life and death and the struggle to be free.  I completely absorbed into my subconscious as the woman in the Fine Arts Center.  The seat became the kelp as it caught me.  I turned into the protected fish.  
     God had answered me.  As I sat down my worries and stress had really left me. I was now a tropical fish and not the Canadian Jay.  I was gasping for air and convulsing.
     Nothing of the actual dance remains a part of my memory.
     I came back to the world around me.  For a second.  I opened my eyes and saw a slender white man. Long tied blond hair with a white shirt with patches indicating his position.  A paramedic I thought.  I trusted him with no further question and thoughts.  The dance. I was gone.  

     The woman came out of her dance.  Confused.  She rose.  Struggling to be aware of her whereabouts and identity.  She was a mad woman out of control.  She fought for her freedom and now she fights it again with the outside world.  She fights to get up as a new born cow or horse would.  All confused and weak.  She fell again.  On the stretcher she lay conscious without strength.  

     I rose from the sleep.  I was in an eternal confusion.  I did not know where I was, who I was and why I was there.  Familiar aromas of  sterile medicines, pastel green colored coats and curtains.  The shiny light reflecting the cold metal instruments.  Not at all like the piercing warm sun rays.  Screams of pain and the smell of blood.  I looked onto my wrist to find my identity.  "Emerald Seamoore" was written on the band with bold black ink.  I remember a feeling of relief.  
     I found my place; the hospital, my identity; Emerald, and most important of all . . . I was and I am alive.  Breathing, calm, and fully conscious. I had gone back to the water.

     - Hi. How are you feeling?
A pastel green coat leaned over me with a warm affectionate smile.
     - Yes. . . I am fine thank you.  I just feel tired and confused.  What happened to me? Why am I in the hospital?
     I looked across the room to see other people with their families in their own cell.  There were people with casts on their legs.  Others unconscious dancing.  Some hooked up to the oxygen machine, and others just screaming in pain.  It was rather a gloomy atmosphere with darkness surrounding all of us.  As if we were doomed.  
     
     - Come down,  You have to relax!!! Just lie down here and relax!!!
The concerned officer explained to the woman as she struggle from her confusion.
By this time the paramedics arrived and connected her to the oxygen respirator.  She fought and refused any help.  She was ready to get up and leave.  She was held down.  I know she will have bruises from her fight. She had an IV already hooked up and she will be in pain and discolored.     

     - You just had a grand mall seizure.
     - What is that?
     - Grand mall seizure is when there is a lack of neurological connection.  A short circuit.  The brain sends all these signal to the body that it cannot handle.  The person in turn goes unconscious and starts to convulse.
     - So . . . I had convulsions?
     - Yes . . . Apparently so. The flight attendant said that you lost consciousness and then convulsed. You will have to stay for several days for testing.
     - Oh . . .

She finally relaxes and lies down quietly on the stretcher.  She accepted the oxygen respiratory and goes to sleep.  I walked into class.  I still did not know what I would say in class.  I felt blood rushing to my head, hyperventilating and cold sweats.  I wanted out!  I stood in front of the chair like a dry coral.

     - I would like to go to the rest room.  Is it OK if I go?
     - Oh, yes.  Let me help you.
So there I was.  Helpless.  Not even being able to go to the rest room let alone get out of bed .
     - Left, right, left, right, . . .
I mumbled to myself.  I could not walk.  I needed to learn all over again.  An infant I was again.
I accepted my confusion and my slight disability and went to sleep until the next morning.

     At the other end, my brother waited.  The plane arrived in Boston MA and I did not come out.  He paces around.  Deep in his thoughts, he comes to his senses and asks for information.
     - Excuse me.  There should be a passenger by the name of  Emerald Seamoore who is supposed to arrive on flight 25.  She did not get off the plane and I was wondering if you could tell me what happened?
     - I am sorry, sir, but this information is confidential. I am not able inform you of anything. However, she did get out before take off.
     - Thank you . . .
After a long pause, he turned around.  His broad shoulders and back were slightly hunched as he walked away from the counter.  His intense brown eyes focused and spaced . . . He drove into the hilly Massachusetts mid afternoon sun.

     As I rose to the Canadian summer sun, I was still in the hospital.  I already had blood tests, IV's, EEG as well as KEG.
     I looked around the room.  A white sterile room with nothing in it.  Bare and sparkly clean.  A stiff ivory colored curtain that divided the room. I saw a figure under the covers on the other side.  The nurse in her white clean outfit came in and opened the divider.  With her she brought a thermometer,  stethoscope, her patient's chart and little test tubes for urine analysis.  As she opened the curtains I finally saw the figure.  It was an elderly woman.  Maybe in her 70-80's with white cottony hair.  She smiled brightly at me like the sun out the window.
     I fell asleep again . . .
     Later in the day I was awakened by the neurologist.  He explained several things and listed all the test and results; We just received your EEG results and blah blah blah blah blah.  He sounded like whales cries vibrating through the waters.  My head felt like a Medusa jellyfish; delirious and confused.  Next thing I knew I was in a wheelchair going to get my CAT scan done.  Dizzy, tired and so blurred out by the experience that I saw everything inside out.  I did not feel myself.  I was numbed so much by Tegretol.  A 750 mg dosage orange pill.  It had just swept me and pulled me into another world.  A world of numbness and trance.  

     I came back to reality.   I sat down on my chair and waited for class to start.  I could not help but to think of the woman.  What she will have to endure.  The tests, the drugs and the change that she will have to adjust to: No travelling for the first 3 months, no high altitudes, no swimming, suspension of license, change in diet . . .   Maybe she will have to change her career choice, her major, the environment in which she lives. I did.  All that.
     - I praised God for the day.  For another day in which I did not have a seizure and a little reminder of keeping myself in check.  
     I ended my speech.  As another  student proceeds their self-introductory speeches, I hear the clutching of the stretcher.  
     - Ready to go.
     The voices and ambulance sirens faded into the bright sunny day.  I proceeded with my daily activities and preoccupations.