frosty hospital window—
from this bed
my reflection for a view
After spending a sleepless night listening to my ticker for the slightest irregularity—even the ones in my imagination—I finally doze off just before dawn. The cardiologist wakes me an hour later, accompanied by my favorite nurse, Carol, and tells me my heart is in good shape. It just pops out of me like air out of a balloon: “That must mean I have a good heart.”
His glare could freeze anti-freeze. “Carol has your discharge papers,” he grunts before swaggering out of the room.
code blue—
x-ray his funny bone
for signs of life—stat
First published in cattails