My Life is Dope
For the second time in a year, Matt and I were at the hospital in the middle of the night in Houston. Extreme pain in his stomach was causing difficulty breathing and in the dead of night, during Covid times, we found ourselves in the ER. Since I wasn’t a novice this time, I had the wherewithal to bring something to read. The triage nurse took Matt to wait, and I had to sit in the semi-outdoor Covid-induced waiting “tent.” It was July and the fans were blowing like I was sitting underneath the engine of a 747. Because of said fans, I was freezing. There was a security officer and one other person waiting in the tent. It was pretty dark but fortunately, I had my iPad to read on. I always mentally prepare for these types of things to go on for hours and hours (probably because I have seen the backside of these situations and as a nurse would appreciate everyone else in the world to also expect to wait for hours and hours, but I digress . . . ). I had started reading a book called “Soundtracks” by Jon Acuff. The premise is that we have the opportunity to rewrite the obsessive, overplayed soundtracks that loop in our minds and replace them with tracks that lead us where we want to go. He tells a story about Kanye West, who before he was anybody, was observed sharing one of his “soundtracks” with a caller who was interrupting a task he was doing. The observer of the situation remembers the audacity and emphatic tone as Kanye tells the caller, “My life is dope! And I do dope stuff . . .” (not a direct quote—this is Kanye, of course—but close enough for you to get the point). At that point, nothing about Kanye’s life would’ve been impressive or warranted that kind of dogmatic boldness. But he either believed it or was speaking it out loud to convince the caller.
I’m sure it was the exhaustion and helplessness I felt that night, but absolute hilarity fell all over me. There haven’t been many times where I let myself slip into full-on laugh in public, but I did then. Like a hard laugh. Like tears rolling. Laughing at Kanye, and laughing at myself, repeating the phrase, “My life is dope.”
We got home hours later and Matt was exhausted but relieved. He was going to need some medicines picked up from Walmart, and within the hour I would need to start communicating with the people involved in his fully booked schedule for the day. I decided to just push through, stay up and head to the store. It was a muggy July morning, and I rushed out into the morning sunshine. I gathered the things I needed, checked out at the self-checkout, and heard the rhythm of a heavy rainstorm on the roof. I turned the corner to gather with all the other shoppers staring out into the rain-flooded parking lot, dumbfounded by how quickly Houston goes from sunny skies to torrential rain. Now we had to decide if we wanted to swim to our cars or not. I was at the back of the pack, and my first response was, “Seriously????!!!??” (“Seriously?” is one of my favorite, most frequently played soundtracks). But it was followed quickly, by a new soundtrack:: “My life is dope.” A grin stretched across my face under my mask, and I squeezed through the people and walked out into the deluge.
