Eadem mutata resurgo



January 20: This is the view from my room, one I’ve been enjoying through the quarantine while eating my lunch and dinner in a blessed silence and the light of a winter day. The building houses the autopsy rooms and the morgue. Down there in the darkness there is a door, with the text NO ENTRY on it, done in sensible, clear white font. A steady, slow stream of white caskets get wheeled out of that door by somber men dressed in black, and loaded into dignified black cars, quaint yet serious models with small flags of Finland on either side of the hood. Behind the shed you can maybe spot a casket and the front of the car.
Thus I have enjoyed my food lately, watching the cadavers roll by. I told my dedicated nurse about this and she was a bit taken back, since a lot of attention is paid to what the rehab patients can see, in a positive sense. I said it’s okay, I find the view serene. And with each casket I can say “nope, not me, not today”.


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