when the wound is fresh, the stream of attendants to inspect, prescribe, and re-dress the wounds seems endless.  laying in the hospital bed, longing for a solitary moment to sleep, to try to piece together what just happened. the doctor ordered 24-hour surveillance.

but once cleared to leave, sent off with plenty of gauze to last the coming week, she's all alone. left alone to peel back the messy layer, trying to understand why, after weeks and weeks, it's not healing. and now, all she wants is someone there to make sure she's okay.

six feet deep in tears.
unable to swim.
trying to tread water.

_____

happy birthday, granny. I love you.

I miss you.