Tag Archives: surgery

Arrhythmic

My heart is not arrhythmic

At least not yet

It’s just the rhythms of my life that have been disrupted

By my heart’s treasonous murmur

I have shed the patterns of comfortable serenity

For trepidation set against anticipation

I make preparations for my convalescence

Without a backbeat

Not knowing the tempo of recovery

My heartstrings are slack-keyed

Waiting to be tuned

By a luthier of broken hearts

When I will be reset and rebooted into

Tick tock

Tick tock

Precision beats against the drumwall of my bloodied chest

Torn open but not asunder

My heart will be absolved of its imperfections

Given back its undercurrent of regularity

Rhythming into conformity with normalcy

Alive to light dancing across the sky

Tuned in to tidal ebbs and flows

Ever mindful of the fragility of now

And certainly forever

Never arrhythmic after playing a moment of time

Outside of time

Again, and again

And again

 

 

David Trudel       ©  2013

 

 

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Filed under Cardiology, Poetry

Pre Op Thoughts

I’d be going crazy if I was still living in some of those places

Like when I was an urban cliff dweller

Looking out at a forest of concrete and glass

Seeing forty thousand pairs of eyes looking back

Makes one a little squirrelly at the best of times

Let alone a few weeks before open heart surgery

Trying to wrap my head around that thought

So I appreciate my forest oasis at city’s edge

A small piece of ancient landscape left untouched

Where my feet can connect directly to bedrock

Resonating on a time scale of profundity

Where I can look out above treetops to the sky

Where I can consider the future from a far-seeing place

I play with alternate versions of the Chac Mool moment I’m on course for

A Stoic exercise of negative visualization

Asking what’s the worst that can happen

Then imagining how that would play out

In order to prepare a strategy of positivity

It’s strange since I don’t have any symptoms

I don’t feel sick

Quite the contrary, I feel better than I have for years

But I’m told a valve needs replacing

It’s a wonderful thing to be alive today, I think

In this world where medicine has become clairvoyant

Where heart valves can be manufactured and installed

Without missing a beat

Now I have a medical team

I am conveyed from one appointment to the next

Relentlessly lining up for ultrasounds and angiograms

Until the moment my chest will be opened and my heart repaired

My sternum will be wired back together

I’ll be stapled shut

There will be no heart attack in six months or a year

The only murmur I’ll hear will be the whisper of the sea

And the wind in the trees

Singing heart songs that I will listen to

With gratitude

 

 

David Trudel   ©  2013

 

 

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Filed under Cardiology, Poetry