Bobblehead Dad by Jim Higley

Author:Jim Higley
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-60832-204-6
Publisher: Greenleaf Book Group Press
Published: 2011-05-25T16:00:00+00:00

THE ONLY GOOD thing about surgery—if it’s possible to say that—was waking up afterward. At first, I wasn’t even sure if the operation was over or if I was about to go into surgery. And there was a brief moment, as I recall, of assessment to ascertain if I was dead. Things were very foggy. But I remember being aware of heaviness throughout my body. It was quiet. I couldn’t move from my waist down. My legs felt as if an elephant was sitting on them.

I moved my hands slowly down to my abdomen. Tubes were attached everywhere. Aisle five of Ace Hardware had apparently been relocated to my stomach.

Yep. I was in the recovery room.

I had a nurse named Brian. I had no sense of any other person in my life. Just Brian.

I went in and out of the most relaxing sleep. I thought about nothing. I simply existed.

Such was my pattern for hours and hours. Exist. Sleep. Wake. Think of nothing. Repeat.

The lights were dim. I could feel a perfect breeze. I heard equipment humming.

I was content. I was at peace with the world. I was at peace with myself. I didn’t know anything about the outcome of my surgery. I didn’t need or want to ask. And while the anesthesia was doing the lion’s share of the work to keep me in this state, I also was fairly clear about what was registering in my mind.

I visualized I had arrived at the other side. The other side of just what, exactly, I wasn’t sure. But I had this strong sensation I had ascended to the top of a mountain and I could now start to see what was on the other side.

As groggy and foggy as I was on the outside, my soul had clarity it had never experienced before.

Around ten o’clock that night, I was moved to a room—in the pediatric ward.

How hilariously appropriate, I thought.

And I had the most wonderfully peaceful night’s sleep.

Paradisiac.

When I woke the next morning, I was alone, and I lay in my room and thought.

Not about surgery, however. I also didn’t think about what the doctor might tell me that day.

Instead, I realized it was the Friday before Memorial Day. The Memorial Day weekend was starting. And I was going to be in the hospital through all of it.

No projects to complete. No chores to do. No schedules.

The Memorial Day weekend was here and I was going to do something I hadn’t done in a long, long time.

Absolutely nothing.

And even though it wasn’t yet June 21, summer had finally returned.

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