Reflections of a Survivior

I stood there like a statue,
Without moving a muscle.
I watched the person on the bed,
And the doctors around him.

The man was trying to say something,
But nothing could be heard.
He was clutching his chest and trying to communicate,
But nothing was clear as he was becoming unconscious.

The doctors were examining him,
Trying to find what was wrong,
They said he was not breathing,
They were getting really worried,
As they couldn’t find out why.

One doctor, an elder one, tapped his chest,
It sounded like hitting a ball full of water.
The doctor said something about internal bleeding,
About chest cavity flooded with blood,
And something about the lungs collapsing.

There was a sudden flurry of activity all around,
The doctors were galvanized into action by the diagnosis,
The nurses ran in different directions,
To get the instruments the doctors wanted,
One doctor, an younger one, took a small knife,
He made an incision on the side of the right chest cavity.
A nurse inserted a plastic tube into it.

Another doctor, the elder one, took another scalpel,
He too made an incision, but on the side of the left chest cavity,
Another nurse inserted another tube into it,
Two others connected the ends of the tubes to bottles.

Blood, dark in color, gushed out like a burst dam,
It flowed as if from a water cannon,
The bottles were full in no time and were replaced.
Blood continued to flow…

After a few minutes the flow began to slow,
The torrent became a stream,
The stream became a trickle,
And finally the bleeding stopped.

The collapsed lungs slowly expanded,
The patient started breathing,
Slowly, very slowly, at first,
Then the breathing became normal and steady.

The doctors started shaking the patient,
They tapped the chest and checked the breathing.
The patient stirred and groaned,
Slowly regaining consciousness.
He opened his eyes and looked at the doctors.

You gave us a scare,
They told him; they were relieved.
I nodded as I knew it was touch and go,
It was my first out of the body experience!
And hopefully my last!

I stared at the blank screen;
The blinking cursor frightened me.
I wanted to write,
But I could not.

I raked my brain for ideas,
But it was as empty as a Monday morning church.
I searched my notes and idea books,
But they were empty as the looted bank vault.

I tried and tried,
But nothing came to mind,
Nothing worth writing,
Nothing worth sharing.

I was cold with fear,
My writing career was over.
My muse had gone away,
Leaving me to find my own way.

I stopped thinking,
I put the pen down,
I stood up and left,
Leaving the blank screen.

I rode to the market,
I strode to my favorite cafe,
I had coffee and sandwiches,
Black coffee and tuna sandwiches.

I rode again,
I went to the beach,
The sea was calm,
And the breeze was warm.

I sat down and looked at the sea,
It had a calming effect,
It soothed me and calmed me,
I dozed off and woke up a few hours later.

I felt fresh and rejuvenated,
My mind was brimming with ideas,
I took my notebook, my constant companion;
And captured most of them.

Then I realized a fact,
It is better not to force the mind,
Be ready and capture the ideas,
As and when they appear.