Doodling Past the Graveyard

Doodling Past the Graveyard

  My third stint in the hospital due to my battle with cirrhosis of the liver vacillated between optimism and utter doom. The nurses were amazing dealing with me; my family and friends were supporting me. I could only really walk with a walker (poorly) and I needed help with regular bodily functions at times. But I tried as often as I could to bring laughter and smiles so wasn’t the kind of patient nurses avoided. Then one day a frustrated doctor told me the only reason I was alive was because of medication and care at the hospital. He wasn’t being mean. He was upset there was rarely any progress with me.

     I tried not to let it bring me completely down because there were talks about the possibility of me getting a transplant. One day I did a video call with my cousin Mette in Denmark. She is an artist who paints and does ceramics as well as teaches young people art in school. After I had updated her about my physical and emotional state, we talked about doodling and a personal project I had started before I got quite sick and had my first month-long stay in a hospital about a year before.

     When I moved to Abilene from Austin knowing I was sick but not what was wrong with me—never having gone to a hospital to check things out—I decided to get back into doodling. I had a big piece that I’d started several months before as a way to practice doodling with all kinds of colored pens. I continued with that piece until it was finished. And then an idea came to me. Why not do collaborative doodles with my friends? I could mail a doodle I had startled to a friend who would add to it and then mail it back to me. The piece would continue back-and-forth in the mail until it was done—two mailings each usually.

    Many friends were interested, and the doodling and mailing began. The first ones I did with Mette were my favorite because that’s when I realized doodling could involve any media. The ones with her mostly involved painting along with some ink and colored pencils. As long as the idea began spontaneously and the piece grew collaboratively, I didn’t care which media was used. Heck, use it all! Inspiration between two people into the piece of art it was to become, seemingly, on its own almost, is an incredibly fulfilling endeavor.

     WHAM! I got really sick and dropped the project for the most part until everything rekindled in me that day I was on the phone with Mette. That was during my darkest hours.
     “You should doodle again. Right now? You can find something. Even a napkin!” Mette exclaimed.
     “Well. I do have a pen in these blankets somewhere (my body was sickly cold always) and a notebook over to my side that someone could hand to me when I need it.”
     “Good. You should do it.”

     As soon as we got off the phone I asked for my notebook and I did my first doodle in the hospital. I had promised her on the phone that whenever I was able to do so, I would mail it to her and she could add to it. I was excited again about doodling. Mette’s words of encouragement during that phone call completely inspired me. I did one more doodle that day before a helicopter came late that night and whisked me away to Fort Worth. I had been approved for an transplant assessment at Baylor Scott and White All Saints Hospital. The doodling would have to wait.