two sided mirror

My mood music this evening is the groans, plucks, pops and whistles of hospital machinery and monitors. I sit on a chair too broad to be an easy chair and too narrow to be a couch. It is also too rigid to be comfortable, but it is more forgiving than the stained plastic chairs of yesterday's E.R. My feet are propped on a stereotypical wooden chair that is kept warm by my black down vest across its shoulders. I watch my friend in the bed opposite me and remember. I remember the crippling stomach pain that signals appendicitis. I remember wanting someone to simply fix it and for God's sake to quit poking things inside me to figure it out. I remember the floating euphoria of post-anesthesia dreams. I also remember the vague half-consciousness of blurry faced nurses checking my vitals what seemed like every five minutes. I remember waking up to see someone I knew and so I sit and wait. This waiting just might result in being caught up on my reading and journaling. At present I'm a little sidetracked and basking in the convenience of wifi. I breathe a short prayer of thanks once again for the new laptop. In between interruptions from the nurses I browse blogs which lead to sites for children's authors and illustrators which rekindle memories of my story-loving childhood and inspire my dreams of story-telling post-childhood. Looks like someone is waking up...