Second Chances

This morning is unlike all others. It was unexpected. Until this morning I had turned a corner, never to return to life as I knew it. It was just another assignment in the beginning. Progress was contemplative and sedate, taking its own sweet time and mine. The march of my mind evolved into a wild stampede. Firmness and strength, virtues I thought I possessed, were being gobbled up and I struggled for some sense of normalcy.

Too often.

"Recommend a Cat Scan."
"Ultra sound - liver needle biopsy."
"Do you have a Living Will?"
"Sign this and this and this and this."
"Emergency numbers?"
"Just a little more blood, please."
"Name and birthdate."
"Do you need another blanket?"
"The ultra-sound machine guides the needle to its destination."
"I see nothing."
"A second Cat Scan."
"Slipping away under a tightly wrapped blanket."
"I'm sorry my fingers are so cold."
My own fingers tap in rhythm to a mild version of a forgotten rock song playing from somewhere above.

The light moved and I had a clearer view of my relation to the things of yesterday and the perils of that which I hope I shall not again encounter.

Telephones ring. "Tell me all about it from the very beginning, Mama, don't leave anything out."