Journal 7th Nov

7th November

Walked the warrior walk round the corner to the private hospital, stars still out, and arrived at 7:07. I think I did that on purpose. I was the calmest I've ever been in my life. The nurse registering me in commented, until she took my pulse and my blood pressure.
This is a first. My head is calm, my body isn't.
I breathe prana breaths. I have learned.
A lot.

Had I died, my last words would have been 'Oo I feel all tingly.' My last sight as the black popped from the outside of my face and eyes to the pins of my pupils, was the sweet small smile of the Indian anaesthetist nodding. He looked like a holy man.

I can hear my name
HAZEL!
Everything is so pitch black and still and warm.
HAZEL!
So black. I feel a bit curious, like I'm turning round, in a lovely garden that I'd rather not leave, but I feel curious. Turning round.
HAZEL!
Why are the shouting?
HAZEL!

'There she is.'

Eyes popping open a split second later, where's the pain, no pain, good, need to pee. I'm wriggling desperate to pee, I can hear them saying you have a catheter but it doesn't register until I hear Indian Princess say it.
'Won't it go all over the place?'
'What?'
'Won't it go all over the place?'
'No Hazel, you have a catheter.'
'Okay.'

I trusted her.
Apparently.

I'm not sure how I feel about the knowledge that in the murkiness of post-operative dreamland, all I'm worried about is making a mess.

Later, I'm aware there's a panic, machines I'm strapped up to beeping madly, and as I wake up, faces all around me and what looks like a policeman in a bullet proof vest.
"There she is".
They sigh in relief and all step back.

When I wake up later, the bullet proof vest is a tabard which says 'On drug round, do not disturb.' I'm not sure what all the alarms were about.

The anaesthetist comes in and out to see me twice more that evening.
He has such a gentle energy.
I say, "Thank you for taking such good care of me.
He squeezes my foot as he leaves.

I open the remote control curtains, look at the tree outside my window and smile.
God it's good to see a tree.