January Month of Poetry: Part Three

Week Three of Month of Poetry was dominated by my son’s Myringoplasty surgery. With pen and notebook, we entered the hospital… <pre>

Myringoplasty

Wake-up 5am…
Departure 6am…

Day Surgery Admissions 7:30am:
Not thinking
watching TV
tennis
news
will
write
a
poem
soon ….. 

Nurse:  Which ear are we operating on?
Left.

Toilet 8am:
Where do I tie these strings?
Do I put these over my shoes?
Stockings!
We didn’t have a long wait…

Cubicle 8:30am:
could sleep
feel sick
so hungry
my shoe things keep falling off
wish I could see
could watch –
I hope he videos it!
those shoe things fell off again.

Orderly:  Which ear are we operating on?
Left

ummmm…
I don’t know what I was going to say
really getting hungry now
half an hour longer and I’ll feel it

still waiting…
I’ve been waiting here for ages.
I hope they don’t forget

Orderly:  We’ve got one up here, don’t forget.

Oh good. They didn’t forget.

I really hope he videos it.
I want to see.

It’d be really funny if I waited
so long and eventually
I went to find the doctor and they
come back in and
the bed’s empty.
Argh!

We’ve been waiting here for ages.
Can you please open the curtain –
just slightly. I want them
to see me.
Don’t want them to forget me.
Is anyone coming?
Oh man!
Everyone who came in after me
has already gone.
Hope they haven’t forgotten me
Are you sure they haven’t forgotten me?
I think it’s me! … I hope.

Cubicle (still) 9:30am:
Ask them if they’ve forgotten me.
Orderly: We’d never forget you.
Doctor just reshuffled his list.
It shouldn’t be long now…

Outside theatre 10:00am:
It’s fun when they push you –
just lie back.

Price is probably going up
just sitting here.

Theatre Noises:  Cough. Splutter. Gag. Gasp.
*eyes boggle*  Nasty! Glad you’re knocked out.
Splutter. Gag. Gasp. Retch.
*shudders*

Still haven’t put my heart monitors on.
Spend the whole time waiting for them.

Anaesthetist:  Now, which side are we operating on?
Left

I’m rolling over so they don’t have to flip me.
so they know
which side.

LEFT!

Mum:  Do you want me to write on
the other ear? {Not this ear} Yes?
No. They’ll probably see writing
and think that’s the one to do!
Mum:  Maybe, {STOP! Not this ear.} Yes?
*Grins* No.

Doctor: Now, which ear am I operating on?
Left
I’ll get my pen and mark which ear.
<-HB

*relaxes*

In theatre 10:15am
Doctor:  What are you doing still awake.
Mum:  I say that every night!
Doctor:  Did you see my new Zeiss lens?
Anaesthetist:  Just a little prick now.

*judders violently*
*blinks*
*slow blinks*
*sleeps* …

Anaesthetist: Okay Mum. You can leave now.

</pre>

Later that night, my son wrote;

blood whooshes
as I hear the pulse
of healing

My Epigram:

An ear for music humours the heart
but hear me and heed me – don’t laugh at art!

.

For those of you who aren’t familiar with the story – my son artistically ruptured his left ear drum in a random accident with a paintbrush, during art class last year. The hole 1/3 the size of his eardrum didn’t repair itself, so a skin graft was necessary – along with an inspection of the tiny hearing bones. We are hopeful that the skin graft will repair the eardrum and restore full hearing… Thankfully the bones checked out okay!

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