A Starring Role
I stare at the clouds and blue sky
painted on the emergency room ceiling.
This must be a movie; not my life:
belly pains, blood test, then here—
a gown, clothes bag, warm blankets,
questions, and now, the wait.
My name's added to the chalkboard
and I gain interest in this film:
the man moaning next to me,
a young woman speaking Spanish,
nurses responding, scenes set.
My husband hovers, holds my hand,
yet the worry in his eyes
doesn't faze me as I float in and out.
A man in green arrives.
He chats with me, says we may
have to go inside for a look-see.
I hear my laugh when I realize
this amusing attendant is my surgeon.
While we banter and bargain,
I'm far from the body on the gurney,
a star on stage, handed a difficult script.
