Apéritifs: In the months leading up to the release of our book A Single Throat Opens, a collaborative lyric exploration of addiction (with Michael Schmeltzer), we will be compiling a playlist pairing songs with new writing to be enjoyed before the main course. Cheers, friends. (Get the whole list here.)
I spent a childhood viewing myself through ultrasounds, CT scans, tubes, drips, catheters, the haze of anesthesia and drugs, the murmurs of doctors outside my hospital room, test results, medical bills left on counters, intake/output charts, pill bottle labels, volumes of green medical records. I was, but I wasn’t. I pieced together the evidence I gathered: I was a presence of something wrong. I was not a full person, but a long-cast shadow of medical terms and procedures, a patient. To see yourself, inside out, in the contrast of light and shadow is to see yourself as other. I am the image on the ultrasound screen – light in some places, dark in others, always on the lookout for something amiss.