Recovery

She wakes from her slumber;
Heart racing,  face clammy with sweat.
Is it the dreaded menopause she wonders?
Then she remembers -
It was only a dream.
But an Endone-induced psychedelic whorl of incomplete images
Fleeting pieces of unprocessed data chasing one another through a hazy fog.
All at once weird and exciting and terrifying,
Reminiscent of a C.S. Lewis-esque fantastical story.

Heart beat back to normal
Face once again dry.
She rationalises to herself -
It has only been a few days since the surgeon sliced, sluiced and suctioned,
Only a short while since the anaesthetist plied his professional drug-induced precision.
It's all fine now.
The angels in uniform have your back,
Calming you with their bittersweet seductive armoury of oblivion.
Making you feel better on your slow road to rejuvenation and recovery.