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Thoughts Before Surgery
In 1996 I was living in DC
while serving as a diplomat
At the State Department
My wife was in the military
Serving as a major in San Antonio
That fateful morning, I went jogging
Early in the morning
Fell down a ledge
I did not see in the dark
I shattered my heal
Into a millions pieces
Had to have heel surgery
The ER patched me up
I went to San Antonio
And had the first
Of 15 surgeries
Over the course
of the next nine months
After the army doctors
Preformed an experimental procedure
Using shark cartridge in my heel
The staph infection got lodged
Behind the cartridge
Morphing into an evil, malignant
Mutant, multiple drug resistance staph infection
Had to take IV antibiotics
Using vancomycin the nuclear bomb of antibiotics
Blood tested four times per day
The dosage had to be constantly adjusted
Too little won’t kill the bacteria
Too much could end
killing the patient
Meaning me of course
I Almost lost my leg
And my life
Left me with lifelong arthritic pain
Fibromyalgia and hammer toes
Five years later had two hammer toe surgeries
And will have to do it again within a year
I soon developed a ritual
The night before the surgery
I would call my wife
My mother
My two brothers
My sister
My five best friends
My wife I knew
She would be my side
Even if she was far away
I felt that my brothers
Were indifferent
It would not really matter
If I died or not.
My sister would mourn me
My friends would miss me
My best friend was in DC
And visited me before
And after each surgery
My mother was slipping
Into dementia.
And I was not sure
She understood
What I was going through.
But still I wanted to hear
Their voices perhaps for the last time
before going under the surgeon’s knife.
Copyright ©
Jake Aller
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