LatinosUSA

A wake-up call

I  The day before the surgery

The morning I went for a check-up
I had no idea they'd want to operate
But, my body, they said,
needed fixing;
I had no choice but to agree.

The hospital was no super-speciality
that boasted the latest gadgets
But it sure had doctors
Who made me feel at ease; enough
to put my life in their wrinkled hands.

II  The evening before the surgery

I called none
I messaged a few, 'I'll go under the knife tomorrow.'
In total, there were not more than ten
Though my social feed said more.
'Perhaps, on Christmas eve,' I thought,
'they'd say a prayer for me.'

I told my husband I loved him
before we went to bed;
I kissed my daughters goodnight
Just over the arches of their brows
and watched them as they dreamed.

Then, I stared out into the night
Until I drifted off to sleep
I wished upon the crescent moon
and the starless sky, 'Let me bear witness
to many more a waning and waxing moon.'

III On the day of the surgery

I wake up at three
to the sound of the temple gongs
It is dark outside
I lie in bed, thinking,
'There's no place I'd rather be.'

Here, in my husband's parent's home
surrounded by paddy fields
where the breeze blowing through the trees
carries the sound of the ocean
and makes the branches ebb and fall like waves

I dress. It is 5 a.m.
The girls are asleep
I hear their breathing
Under the whirring sound of the fan
Soft; exhausted.

I whisper, "See you later," and leave.
I visit the neighbourhood temple on the way
And drop a note in the donation box
I make a pact with God-
'If I return tomorrow, I'll put in some more.'

IV Prepped for surgery

They tie my hair in two pigtails,
rolled at the bottom
My blue gown- open at the back
covers my beating heart,
the naked shame I still feel.

'Easier for the staff,' I think, 'if it decided to stop.'
The nurse asks me to lie down on the indigo sheet;
I do. And wait- for the IV to seep in
drip, drip, drip
my life rolls before my eyes-

'Twas a good run,' I think, 'I have no regrets.'
I close my eyes
And thank the Lord
When a thought creeps in,
It wasn't easy not having mum around.

And my heart beats fast
'I'm not giving up without a fight,' it says
In my head, a poem brews
And my brain says,
'This needs to see the light.'