Have you experienced any shortness of breath?


No, while thinking sure

Every time a beautiful woman looks in my general direction

I’ve had my breath taken away enough

Enough to keep life interesting


I’ll take that as a no, he says

After my recitation of the home gym, walks and bike rides


Now I wonder

My fingertips seemed colder in those new gloves last winter

Was that a sign


Maybe there’s a bunch of shit I can blame on the faulty pump

Post op, that is


After that waking up moment

Through queasy fog

Time splinters rustling like wind chimes

Into the coming to in recovery

Where you realize you have more lines running into

And out of your body than there are lines on a gaff-rigged schooner

Pain, an explosion swaddled for now by morphine

Or something

But there

There, coiled like some viper biding their time

In the center of your chest

Through the haze you realize the battle has begun

So you deploy relentless optimism

Against enervated ennui

Every kind of discomfort imaginable

Until it gets better

Which it will and does

In time



David Trudel   ©  2013



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Filed under Cardiology, Poetry

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