Heart.

I turned my palms so that they were face down. I was wrapped from the waist down in the white sheets of a bed. I felt like a twig. I looked at the smiling doc. My vision was surprisingly clear. Beyond the doc, the room boasted blue curtains, white walls and bright lights - as one should expect, I assume at least, from a hospital room.   

The doc sported black hair, two lovely pearly earrings and a pair of eyes. I smiled back. I was definitely on something. I can’t tell what, but my mouth crinkles seemed to buzz as muscles contracted. It was a weird feeling. My mind wondered easily. Almost as easily as my eyes. I remember looking at the wall clock and following the ticking motion of the hands. At the time, they had a nice movement to them. I likened that motion to the sway of smoke or the flapping of a flame.

I was told by the lovely doc to embrace my new heart in a language comprised of factoids and the occasional medical vignette. 

“It’s a technologically sound device and very new indeed”.

“135 beats per minute and far more efficient than the real thing. Breath taking, really”. 

After the doc’s description about how terrific my new heart is, I had a little coughing fit. I can only put the cough down to the dustiness of the room’s air. The odd thing was that my heart rate stayed exactly the same. Now, not having experienced this before, I must say it is a feeling of peculiarity. It was at this moment that I realised my case was quite luxurious. I would never have to worry again about becoming light headed from lying down too long and nor would I have to worry about attending anymore of Minnie’s god awful Pilates classes. A minor miracle. 

I remember having a little lapse form my bliss. How would Minnie respond? And the kids? Joseph had only just managed to graduate and, well, Kayla’s kids now have to deal with an even less capable Gramps. Fantastic. Thinking about all this was all fine and dandy, but I soon realised that the most pressing issue was to work out how I was going to navigate Minnie’s “I told you so” moment.

“Listen to me, you’re too old for this”.

“40 years. It’s going to kill you”. 

Minnie’s concerns are always the same. I never take them to heart. I know she means well. But, my god, that woman can complain and she now had a fair point. I looked back at the doctor still mumbling away. I concluded apologising was the best bet. I needed to play the victim card to my advantage. Minnie isn’t that heartless. She’s come around. 

I tuned back to the doc. I was told that there are two battery packs built into my chest. All externally rechargeable, of course. When one pack dies out, the second pack kicks in and it becomes paramount that the previous one is recharged. If I fail this procedure, I die; with both battery packs empty there is simply nothing to power the circulation of my blood, to transport my oxygen and to keep me alive. 

The doctor smiled again. I must say, by now, I remember beginning to feel a little restless. I was starting to come around. My eyes darted down towards the doctor’s blouse, to the chest pocket of her white coat and then to the little white pen that popped out. 

It was then that I realised I now had no heart and all I really wanted was a cigarette.