Waiting

I have spent the last,

month,

of deep freeze, polar vortex,

in the house,

waiting for a call,

from the hospital.

I’ve had my pre ops,

tests, info, probing and prodding.

I’ve given up smoking.

13 days and counting,

and,

still,

I wait.

It’s hard to get out,

it’s so damn cold,

I mean really cold,

not wussy cold,

friggin’ cold,

burn through your clothes,

cold.

I have to be careful,

money wise,

count the pennies,

I have to keep,

strong,

positive,

for the surgery,

I am going,

mental,

loca,

everyday,

I think today is the day,

they are going to call,

I am going to get a date,

for the surgery.

and then I’ll wait for the surgery…

and then I’ll wait to see,

if it’s more serious than the fibroids…

and then I will wait ’til I am strong enough,

again.

Waiting,

it’s all about,

waiting,

times like these,

I wish I was a believer,

I wish I could find solace,

in the words of the bible,

or the Milton quote,

in his poem On His Blindness:

They also serve who only stand and wait.”

but, I don’t,

I know I must wait,

I am resigned to it,

I wait,

no choice,

but,

it’s hard,

my life,

where it will go,

and,

when,

it’s very hard,

to think,

to concentrate,

to breathe deep,

to stay Zen,

but,

I must,

I do,

I will.

I wish Francoys was around,

I wish I could have a smoke,

I wish it would hurry up,

and,

happen,

already,

but,

in between,

the wishing and the freaking,

I’ll just keep,

waiting.

Be well.

Later girls,

BB