On leave

‘ankles crossed’
phone drawing by m ball

 On leave 

Yes. I have been absent, but not without leave, which I granted myself after plans gang agley.
     The surgery, I was assured, was minor: that which was to be removed was small — a toenail, a tooth, a testicular something-or-other — it doesn’t matter which. Fade to dusk under light anesthesia and swim back into the light of day soon enough, though: “You’ll need someone to drive you home.”
     Be driven home. Take your antibiotics (amoxicillin — pot clavul 875) until you run out and your small oxy (oxycodone hcl 5 mg) until it does. Rest, but don’t skip any meals. Plenty of liquids. And: All will be well, and all manner of thing will be soon well. Come back in two weeks; you can drive yourself.
     Nothing can go agley but what will: We live in the air, not in a lab; we live through unrecoverable time, not in repeatable experiments.
     Still, that we can measure them (the air and time) does not mean they can’t expand and contract — and multiply and divide — and, even asleep, blow raspberries at our barometers, and our clocks and calendars.
     “Selah,” Roz says. “Yes,” I agree.
                                                                           10.29.23