INTUBATION

July 31—Long Beach

Background to the present…many of you are familiar with the cliff note version of this.

December 3, 1995—NYC

Whilst attempting to capture images of a mother swan and her new babies on the Nikon camera that had just been gifted to me, I was ambushed by a group of thugs, badly beaten, resulting in a number of surgeries. Most of these surgeries were executed by sensitive, elite professionals but in the very last one I was intubated by a careless, aggressive doctor, which resulted in damage to my throat and larynx…forever. Hence I secretly have held a passionate aversion to the idea of ever being intubated again…my dramatic self saying “I would rather die.”

The present:

Well….the universe has presented me with a new opportunity to face this wounding/fear.

In a few days I am going under the knife for something which I did not feel was ‘a big thing’ but is apparently intense enough that INTUBATION is required.

A jolt ran through me….pure panic…and then I had to laugh…the Universe has its way.

The mind can believe that it is calm…in surrender and trust…but one’s innards tell the truth:

Deep deep trauma lies in our cells and we can either deny or embrace this…and so I shall embrace even as the imagination transports to sitting by the sea and watching sea lions romp and pelicans splashing.

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