“Yesterday I had heart surgery. Serious surgery. It was an open heart operation. Sterile doctors came into the room to start fumbling with my heart. They took it out, tried to fix it, succeeded or not, tickled it, pulled it in pulled it out, cut it, sawed it, added some stuff to it, took off other viscous stuff. I was there, or not. They were tearing my heart apart, my heart that beat, then stopped then started again. So many foreign hands manipulated it. Gloved hands, masked faces, as if my heart was dangerous, as if it could be cruel. I felt nothing, I felt everything. I felt like crying, I felt like shouting. When it was put back in, minus the extra parts that were dumped in a bin without much ceremony, they left me there on the cold table while they went to have a coffee, or a beer. When they came back, I was still lying there with my heart. Sometimes beating sometimes not. Hurt from all the pull and stretches. Hurt and pained. So hurt, but resilient.”

AD

(July 24th, 2013)