The Diving Bell and the Butter Fly #3

1. In the last line of Guardian Angel, Bauby says "And I have to admit that at times I do not know anymore," in response to Florence question of "Are you there, Jean-Do?" This is significant because Bauby seems to be losing himself a little bit, like the diving bell is taking him over, and he can't connect to the real word anymore, he's just trapped in him mind, in his memories and imagination.

2. The ironic thing about the photo Bauby receives is that it is him as a boy, visiting the same town in which resides the very hospital he now lives in, 33 years previous to the present.

3. Bauby's dreams give us some insight to his condition. We see the heights of his imagination and how his past and his memories effect him in the present. In his dream he is walking with his best friend, Bernard, in snow trying to get back to France which is in the midst of some general strike (which was happening at the time of Bauby's "accident"). In Bauby's dream the leader of the Bosnian Serbs, Radovan Karadzic, performs a tracheotomy on him, because he's having trouble breathing, which is part of Bauby's condition.  Then he ends up in a study in a cellar having an amber liquid, presumably beer, poured into his mouth through a tube, like the way Bauby eats. In the end, he ends up hostage for an unknown cult and wishes to warn his friends so that they do not end up in the same trap, but he is unable to speak which "conforms [his dream] perfectly with reality. I am unable to utter a word." This shows Bauby's frustration his condition, as well.

4. In My Lucky Day, Bauby's butterfly is hidden, inactive. His diving bell consumes him, pulling him down, as nothing is going right for him. The tape on his right eye has come undone due to his sweat,  the alarm on his feeding tube has ben incessantly beeping, and his urinary catheter has become detached, and he is soaked in his own urine.

5. After reading Our Very Own Madonna and Through a Glass, Darkly, I can think of a time in my life that I did not truly appreciate until it was over. In eighth grade,  my best friend at the time suddenly hated me for a month. I hadn't realized how much  I was depending on her, how much support I got from her. I no longer had anyone to talk to or sit with at lunch, I couldn't call her to get the homework, or talk to her about my problems. What was worse still is that when she started hating me, most of our mutual friends hated me too, thereby not becoming mutual anymore. I was shocked at how isolated I was without her. It was then I truly appreciated the support I had gotten from her, but it was also then that I truly appreciated some of my other friends, whom I did not see as much, and also how I used to be independent without her. She and I have since made up, but because of what happened, I don't put myself completely into my friendships anymore, and I try more to appreciate the friendships I have in the moment, rather than after we have to separate for some reason, benevolent or hostile, and I have to learn how to stand on my own again.

We can learn to live by appreciating significant moments by realizing that they're significant and why while they're happening or immediately after the fact. It might not be possible all the time, but it certainly helps, and works for part of the time, which is important.