I woke up slowly in ICU. For a while, I remained on breathing support. It took ages for the doctors to allow me to breath real air. It was all I wanted to do but they denied me this indulgence for an eternity.
The Impaler was no more. I knew not where it went nor cared how it may have gotten there. I felt far from free. I was attached to a multiple of drains and machines. I felt more helpless and restricted than I had for many months previous. The dream of being a free man remained just that.
I was tired. Wasted in fact. This hardly seemed the defining moment it had promised to be.
Nonetheless, I had a new heart inside me. One that Dr Thomson described as a very good match. This was enough. All else would pass. The new heart would last.
Camilla was with me. Probably for days. I could not fathom the passage of time.
I do recall Camilla telling me we'd made it. I told her I loved her. We looked out over Desolation Row. I can recall little else.
Until next time,
Even though we've never met, Shaylee passed on your blog a few months back and I loved reading it. I nearly cried when she told me you had received a new heart. I was so excited for you and your family. A new start. Perhaps as a writer ;o)? Seriously though, all the best for your recovery which I am sure, although long,will be very welcomed.
ReplyDeleteFor a nanosecond I thought about trading a well paid and fulfilling career in law for the uncertainty, poverty and romance of being a writer. I think I'll stick with the law. Good to hear from you. All is going well.
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