slip-sliding away…..

The late afternoon sun
Gently illuminates
The face
Of the old man in the corner bed.

He lies
like he could be dead.
Yet, his hands moved just now,
Like he was doing exercises
But with his eyes still closed.
Maybe it’s easier for him that way.

He told the nurse he’d had cancer
20 years ago,
And the hospital was different back then.

His family came to visit earlier,
Telling tales of
Thanksgiving
(Which is “bigger than Christmas” in America)
Where some of them are headed tomorrow –
And commending him
On the colour retuning to his face
Now that he’s eaten.
“You’ll have a great sleep tonight”
They tell him,
Before other chit chat
Which precedes their exit.

Near him,
My 60-something year old neighbour from this morning –
Who also migrated with me
From our original room to this one –
Just across from the ward
Where my first born
Arrived into this world.

He sits by the window,
Having had enough
Of his murder mystery book
(For now).

He’s (gently) reprimanded the nursing staff
Several times today,
But always sought to smooth it over afterwards –
Making sure he got his point across.
The last of them
Was a nurse who’s only here
For her second day…
Her plea for understanding
Cheerfully granted.

The man across from me
greets his young son repeatedly on the phone,
Assuring him of his impending return the next day (God-willing).

While my own kids visited in person not long before that,
Bringing handwritten get-well-soon notes
– far better than any Hallmark card –
Before we completed our nightly bedtime rituals –
which I hope to resume at home
24 hours from now.

We all wear a variety of wristbands,
Identifying us and our procedures,
Looking more like bracelets…
But this is no party.
For the music
is the sound of medical machines beeping,
And the snacks
Are colourful pills and powders,
Along with IVs connected
To pain relief
(For some).

I await a final visit from a nurse,
Before retiring
For a hopefully-restful night,
Just days before my birthday…
This being my second operation
In living in living memory
(and 3rd overall).

And though this stay
Has not been unpleasant,
I only hope it stays that way
– pain free,
And uncomplicated –
So that I may return home in the morning,
Thereby ending
These tales from the ward…