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Post Op

All senses suspended I float in a deliciously numbing void The return to consciousness is slow Small unaccountable sounds assail My brain Olfactory nerves sense strange smells It’s the optic senses that awaken last Eyelids feel like one ton weights pressing down Gigantic effort to life one up A harsh white blinding radiance Hits my optic nerves Slowly I perceive tubes and machines Around me The picture coheres Into an ICU I am en route to recovery post op

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Book: Shattered Sighs