Christmas presents.
The last words I hear from the Anaesthetist who sunk that sleepy fluid into my left hand, chirpily chatters about how brilliant he is at buying Christmas gifts for his family. That they'll be opening them in front of a crackling fire, cast away in a countryside cottage somewhere idyllic and festive. Come to think his jolliness did remind a bit of santa, an overtired nhs employee, doing his job with the zest of a spring chicken. I didn't join in or humour him though, not out of defiancy. I simply observed them all, while they attempted to make me feel better. I do that alot lately, observe quietly and thoughtfully, behind a slightly glazed over stare accompanied by an enthusiastic nod of the head. Just so they feel like I care, which I do...most of the time. Suddenly a deep tiredness stretched over me, not the one I know all too well, this one was new and seductive. I sank willingly into her soft watery arms, trusting that she'd carry me away from chat about the holidays and move me into the shadows of a sleep I needed. Blanketed in the warmth of nothingness was a glorious break from sailing the choppy waters of my mind.
Alas these salty sedated rivers ran dry. Roughly I awoke bereft, longing to stay in my healing slumber. Gone were the arms of my watery mother, gone was the chatter of Christmas cottages, gone was the comfort of darkness. It was the cold that woke me up, my teeth chattered together, my limbs lay empty, strobe lighting seared through me. I shook. The nurses came, lay hot cotton upon my skin but they paled in comparison to my liquid mother. Where was she? I sulked forlorn, but she'd long gone, and all I could do was lay in her memory, curled up in her once welcoming shores.
One nurse however didn't leave my side. I was bawling my eyes out. Grief stricken by something that I couldn't put my fingers on. My chest felt hollow and I needed someone to guide me back to life, her name was Amy. Exhausted eye lids prized shut, my ears drank the words Nurse Amy spilled into them. Her hands locked in mine, she told me to cry but to remember who I am and that if I felt like I had lost myself that I should talk to my spirit. Lift it. Remind it that I am blessed, she stroked my hair and told me that she too had felt emotionally at sea once, but her rough tides passed like all of our natures do.
For the rest of my visit she kept calling me Princess Nadia. Where's my Princess Nadia she would ask the other staff, make sure she's warm, take care of her, she would demand like a dear friend who knew my burdens well. I didn't see her face until hours later, once I had tentatively found it in me to face my reality, I saw her beaming down. Angel Amy, smooth radiating brown skin surrounded a perfect gap tooth smile, full of heart. You finally joined me she laughed, while placing a hot tea in my hands and packet of biscuits on my lap. My tears were falling like no other, wails cracked themselves from the walls of my throat. I had no idea where they had come from , but I knew they were old. From something I had been numb to before this procedure, before I wasn't well. Stale tears danced down my face rejoicing in their new found flow.
There is a Chinese saying. Flowing water never goes stale. Stagnacy is the main cause for so much tension in our mind- body and spirit. I have been emotionally numb for nearly two years. All in the name of carrying on, I built a dam against the plethora of emotions, grief and sorrow I had felt and moved forward without letting them run. The result left me lifeless and I don't deny that the numbness is still with me. Perhaps the deep sleepy liquid allowed me to let go. To fall into an induced night and savour my illuminated feelings for a moment. It took many hours sobbing, a hug from Angel Amy, to sink into all I had ignored, to help force a shift.
I can't say that all is well, but I can say that Amys words flood through my veins still, healing remedies for ancient emotions. Reminding me that I need to believe in myself and when I'm lost, to pray outloud, alone to whomever I feel will lift my spirt and help me nourish my presence. Im not sure anything actually happened during my surgery but something got burnt away and it wasn't only physical.
There is magic in running waters. Release them and maybe just maybe they'll release you back.
08 December 22. Written on the night of a full cold moon.