… A Sign!

Depression, depression, depression—that is the word that has been haunting me for about a month now, ever since I became trapped in this predicament known as a hospital, with no clarity whatsoever as to what comes next!
All day and night, every four hours, an IV bag of antibiotics has been pumped into my veins to treat an infection in a heart valve—a valve that had previously undergone surgery elsewhere.
It is hard to believe that I have not suffered a mental collapse; for that, I credit an inner awareness, bolstered by years of experience that I have kept alive in my memory.

In any case, the senior physician indicated that surgery likely won’t be necessary, and perhaps by next week I’ll be free to head out into the world—I even thought I could display myself in a shop window as a human being with antibiotics in my veins instead of blood!
Take care, everyone!