Surgery©

Copyright© 2015

By Felina Silver Robinson

I count the days, hours and minutes

Until the doctors roll me away

On the cold, metal slab

Under the brightest of lights

They will anesthetized me

Hoping that I won’t feel or remember

A single thing

A team of skilled and qualified

Doctors and nurses

Hover over me

While they decide who will

Make the first cut

I lay there hoping against hope

That they will just fix me

Making sure that I won’t have to be

In this same spot next year

I can hear the classical music

Humming in the background

While someone, I’m just not sure who

Is whistling the tune

Tip Toe Through The Tulips

For a moment I fear

I fear that I’ve passed on to the other side

But before I know it

There’s no more buzzing

No more sutures

And no more

Tubes being yanked from my through

The hard part is over

The recovery room is calling my name

I lay about for two and a half hours

And they boot me out the door

A bandage resembling a turban wrapped tightly about my head

Medicines to ease the pain once everything else wears off

My head swimming as I take my first unassisted steps

Up my front stairs

Really wishing no one had to see me in such dire straights

Hence begins 2 months of recovery

Where I’ll be nothing like myself

Thank you surgery

For taking away my original self

Of which I hope I can find my way back to someday soon