like Surgery

I.

He told me, It’s like surgery.

Suddenly yet slowly, the light began to flicker on.

II.

I got myself worked up into quite a froth last night.

I don’t understand, as I wrung my hands and tossed my face into my palms.

My husband sat next to my prostrate body flopped across the bed.

It’s like surgery, he said.

Huh? I thought to myself.

III.

But he was right.

This is like surgery.

That is, metaphorically and emotionally.

Surgery is a process that offers remedy for a condition that is either otherwise unresponsive or unreceptive to alternative treatments.

Surgery can bring relief and healing.

But it also brings with it potential risks and possible side effects.

It is a hopeful option, but not the perfect solution.

There is no perfect solution when one is dealing with the ailments of the human body, and even less so when one faces the complex anatomy of human emotion.

IV.

In less than four weeks, I will be thousands of miles above the surface of the earth, dangling in the sky.

Upon our descent, it will be as though I have traveled through a time warp, catapulted into a maelstrom where my past, present and future will suddenly meet—along with all the emotion that accompanies such a convergence.

V.

Surgery can save life.

It can also endanger it.

VI.

That’s a risk I’m willing to take.