I feel each molecule of splintered bone in the night
Constricted by wire twisted tight
I wonder what dance or battle is occurring at the cellular level
In the refusion
It isn’t always easy to bond once ties have been severed
At this moment it doesn’t appear to be an easy seduction
More of a battle
Subcutaneously the soft tissues are going through the same process
Nothing is flowing smoothly
Muscles feel pinned down and tug with each breath
The mountain ridge of incision line is eroding into gentle hills
I hear the drip, drip, drip
Of blood over metal echoing loudly in my ears
I try to resist the impulse to get up
But fail
I take an extra strength Tylenol
Just one
An air strike against the soft bullets
Of pain
This is not a war
Just a skirmish
This is not pain
Just discomfort
I remember pain
Archived now
This is not pain
Just discomfort
I feel my wounds settling
Subsiding slowly into the process of healing
Learning the normalcy
Of just discomfort
Because it is a kind of justice
To pay for miracles
With small sufferings
Here in the dark
Listening to mechanical rhythms of the heart
Marking each moment
Of slow improvement
With blackbeat backbeats
Counting the price of my reward
David Trudel © 2013
O, this is harrowing!
It isn’t all that bad. Given what I had expected, recovering from open heart surgery is more of a discomfort than painful.