The countdown has begun.
1 week and 4 days.
Anesthesia scares me.
Will I awaken?
I'm finding myself
getting things in order.
For what?
I'm not sure.
I seem compelled
to write notes to my kids
and husband.
To assure they know
I love them.
People say,
''Don't worry, you'll be fine.''
Do they know?
Can they guarantee this?
(I'd like to get that in writing) .
The thought of this being my
last 11 days
really puts life into perspective.
I am stepping outside of myself
and seeing what it would be
for them
without me.
You say I'm being dramatic?
DRAMATIC?
Perhaps.
But, who knows what is planned?
The only angels I want to see
when I wake up from surgery
are the ones that are driving me
to the hospital.
Mary Nagy
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-don-t-want-to-see-the-angels/
