Whimsical Writing Prompts

…written from the emergency waiting room

It’s 4:20pm on Wednesday.

The whimsical prompts for the week are under the 🐌🦋🦆 and the daily sorting is under the 💖💖💖

💖💖💖 (talk of medical stuffs, please feel free to skip right down to the prompts)

It’s Wednesday and I’m trying to get this strange bleeding mole on my back tattoo looked at. Last night I tried to go to the emergency room in my town with my partner. But when we got there it was closed.

My partner spent yesterday calling all the health numbers. They’ve all recommended that I see a doctor.

Thing is. I don’t have a primary physician here…I’ve been on the list since February 2024. So a full year.

The clinic in the near by town (20 minutes away) is great for renewing prescriptions and making appointments in advance. The LPNs and RPNs there have been super helpful and they’ve managed my health things spectacularly.

When I moved here I was pre-diabetic and on meds to prevent another stroke. They did some blood work and found elevated levels of lipids in my system and put me on a higher dose, and recommended that I walk a bit more than I already was…and the next time they checked my levels…I was no longer pre-diabetic, and all my panels came up normal, normal, normal.

I cried. (I don’t think I’ve ever been called normal before, and for the most part I don’t want that…but hearing that my panels weren’t showing anything coming down the pipes…it was relieving in a way I can’t even explain)

On Saturday night I took a bath, and the mole on my back/shoulder (that appeared when I got my first tattoo in 2016)…ummm…came off and it started bleeding…and my mom had skin cancer…so I just…was a little worried. It was a lot of blood.

I was supposed to drive out to start my solo trip I’d been planning for the past 6 months on the Sunday but we got new there would be a bad winter storm…so I rebooked everything so I could leave Tuesday, after the Monday provincial holiday.

On Sunday my friend with who I was on a break…called and we sorted things. I made art with new friends. I felt so good. So so good.

Then my partner checked my mole. It was still bleeding.

On Monday we drove the kids to the city to see their Dad, and the walk in clinics were closed.

So we went for dinner…watched some soothing shows.

Yesterday my partner spent the day on the phone trying to figure out what we should do. We followed their instructions and the bleeding still didn’t stop, and the nurses suggested that we get to a doctor within a day.

We tried to go the emergency room in our town last night. It said it was open online. It wasn’t.

We watched more soothing tv. I wrote a whole bunch of letters to take my mind off things.

(Can I just mentioned a cute thing that happened in the emergency waiting room right now? A little kid…about three or four, I’d guess, he was coughing…his mom told him to cover his mouth…he looked and me and my partner, who are wearing masks…and *he* asked for his mask. His mom said she didn’t think he’d wear it. He looked at me. I told him how kind it was that he put on a mask.)

Today I drive into the city. I misunderstood how the walk in clinics worked. I thought you couldn’t register until the doors opened.

I had a minor panic attack brought on by the autistic overwhelm I was feeling after having to interact with a patient and the person at the desk. I tried to ask for help without crying. It didn’t work.

I wandered the grocery store until my nervous system calmed down.

Then I went to visit my kids and tell them I love them.

Then I drove to another clinic.

Full. Again.

So I went to the drug store next door to get stamps. A woman was standing outside with a sign that said “have kids. Anything helps”

I told her I’d get some money inside.

There was no ATM, but I was told there was bank somewhere in the plaza.

I tried to ask the woman’s name. She told me she didn’t speak English. She asked if I spoke French.

I do. Fluently.

So she and I started talking. She can’t work in our province because she doesn’t speak English. She has four kids. She was elate to be talking with someone who understood her, with whom she could communicate.

I asked her if she wanted to walk to the bank with me, we talked, I asked her how she was finding being here. Really hard, she said. She wants to work, and care four her four children. Her rent is so high. She couldn’t pay it this month. So she had someone write her a sign.

I got her as much as I could afford. Asked if she wanted a hug. She did. We hugged. She asked what I owed her. I said nothing. That this was a parent helping another parent.

I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be in that moment. That what she needed was to tell her story to someone who got it. In a language she spoke. I hope she’ll be okay. I wish that our social services were better for the people immigrating here. Like I imagine she thought the whole country was bilingual…it isn’t. I wish I spoke every language. But I’m glad we were at least able to communicate in her second language. But fuck. That’s just one person who is hurting because she is being underserved by our province. Our country.

I texted my partner and they offered to come sit at the hospital with me. To help if I had overwhelm or audio processing issues during triage.

They are sitting next to me, post triage, reading their work slack…while I write this newsletter.

The emergency room is pretty quiet. They took that sweet little four year old in for triage. Another man came in with severe saw cuts to his hand. I imagine we’ll be here for awhile. For a tiny mole that won’t stop bleeding. I can’t imagine being anywhere near the top of the list.

Still. I feel absurdly grateful to be in this room. Hopefully they’ll cauterize my wound, and I can go home.

I didn’t, obviously, get to go on my solo trip. My kids are happy because they didn’t want me going into the U.S. right now…as queer appearing as I look.

So I got to tell my kids I’d be taking a short trip with my partner this weekend instead. Last trip we tried to take we had to come home because my kiddo got appendicitis. Every time I plan a trip something bad happens.

I think this will be my last trip for a good long while.

Maybe I’ll just ask people to come visit me. Once I have the bookshop. (I’m hoping to get a building with an apartment or a tiny house onsite…so folks can come stay.

I can see my brain trying to distract me. So maybe I’ll write the prompts instead.

I hope your Wednesday has been gentle. And if it hasn’t, I send you my love.

I send you my love anyway.

(Oh I just listened to this episode of Curious & Kind Conversations on the way to and from the city, and Mike is such a darling it was a balm for my nervous heart. There is swearing…but other than that it’s heartwarming (even with the swearing I think it’s heartwarming).

Heart,

Wake

🐌🦋🦆

Wednesday Whimsical Prompts

1. Write the prompts (done)

For each prompt below set a timer for 5 minutes do the thing then write.

2. Doodle

3. Draw

4. Sing

5. Dance

6. Listen

7. Breathe