Skilled and highly trained,
a team of angels heal my heart,
working, working, hyperattentive,
for five long hours.
I am asleep.
As consciousness returns,
like an ice floe shifting
in tiny increments from sea to air,
I am dreaming three dreams.
I am a cowgirl! It is sunny,
the bright oranges and yellows of Arizona
highlighting the tall Saguaro,
and I’m singing with my pals around a fire.
The second dream- where is this?
My son is here, so many loved ones
surrounding me, circling, beaming,
many hands lifting me, light as gossamer,
in a cradle of support.
And the third dream, subtle but insistent,
sliding wheels, clicks and bams,
elbows its way into my cognizance.
Recovery room nurses are moving about,
focused on my vital signs.
Somewhat bemused, a bit ambivalent,
I recall an ordeal is over.
My surgery is done.
This is a dream of a well-trained woman
applying pressure to close my open wound.
This is a dream of a young nurse, father of two,
tenderly checking on me each hour.
This is a dream of a wide-windowed room
looking to Mount Pisgah in the golden, fading light.
I choose this dream!
Can you believe it?
I choose this dream of comical bluejays
turning somersaults ‘round the too-small feeder.
I choose this dream of laughing friends
bringing soup, fussed-over for hours.
I choose this dream of a soft hand
holding mine in the darkest night.
I choose this dream of sleep- whose room is this?
filled with the smiles of the Goddess.
What split-second Someday will take me from here?
I choose this dream today, and give great thanks.
After atrial fibrillation ablation
February 1, 2015