Three Things About Routine Surgery

 

Three Things About Routine Surgery

She is under the knife
inside a maze of hallways.
I could pace, read my phone 
and simply be near 
in case she suddenly dies or something
(in which case how could I help?)
but no. I walk into rising sun and sit 
at a cafe window where a mosquito hawk 
with hair-thin feet is testing the glass— 
up, down, a barrier, a desire.
Shut out. Like me.

She’s in good hands with shoulder sliced, 
a bloody hole where Dr. Eakin 
is drilling bone, implanting metal.
Afterwards, he will phone me, a brief call. 
I will phone our three children, grownups all.

I will be there bedside 
when her eyes will open, 
when a nurse will ask her 
to rate her level of pain 
on a scale of one to ten. 
She will quibble about the impossibility 
of assigning numbers, and then 
she will choose her favorite, “Three.” 
You’ll see. 

…..

First published in Please See Me 
Thank you editor Steve Granzyk 

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