Sitting on the floor… breathing…one…two…three… drifting… My leg goes numb, and then the pain hits…
I sit on the ground shivering from the pain. Not knives but teeth cutting through my skin. My heart, a train roaring down the steel adrenaline tracks. Whose blood is on my hands? On my jeans? Theirs? Mine? “Breathe.” I tell myself. The two dogs in front of me, are both covered in blood. The youngest more than the older, and the train inside me comes to a halt. I can’t find the source of the bleeding, and realize there’s no fresh on the younger, but the older has several spots, all fresh. The train starts again, and I stand up; later I would be asked how I could walk.
Waiting at the vet’s office, I’m told he’ll be fine, some anesthetic and stitches. I look down and realize my jeans are covered in fresh blood. Mine? The train slams against the wall of my chest and the pain is back. At home I shakily lift up my pant leg afraid to look. My leg covered in one bite? Two? Three? It already is swollen and is an array of colors from red to purple to black. My mum comes home. She gives me the choice, and I am afraid because I may lose the very things I tried to save. We all have medical backgrounds, and decide as long as there’s no infection or any more serious surface wound, no doctors.
A year later, a surgeon’s office, waiting. No regrets, I whispered, breathing. Holding back the tears as the doctor pokes and prods around my leg. “Holes in your muscle.” He says. “Surgery could be just as bad.” So, basically live with it, or try for better and most likely get worse. I live with it.
Meditating has helped me work through the pain. It has helped me to not believe in regrets, every decision we make is a conscious one. “The past is history, and the future is a mystery, today is a gift, so keep making history, and live through the mystery.”