Post-Op by John Sheirer

     It was only minor surgery, after all--snip a little cartilage and 

drain some fluid. An hour after it was over, hearing his name called, he 

slipped in and out of awareness. His throat burned from the breathing 

tube they’d removed. He longed for ice chips fed by his loving wife, the 

laughter of his children, a nuzzle from the family dog. The pain 

throbbed but was less than what he’d been told to expect. The bed 

sheets scratched his face, and he felt heavy against the mattress. As the 

hours passed, he grew gradually lighter, more aware, and finally lifted 

himself from the bed. By evening, he wanted to go home. 

     A week later, after his funeral, he felt fully himself again, ready to 

haunt those he had left behind, starting with the doctors and nurses 

who had let him die.  

John Sheirer lives in Northampton, Massachusetts, with his wonderful wife Betsy and happy dog Libby. He has taught writing and communications for 26 years at Asnuntuck Community College in Enfield, Connecticut, where he also serves as editor and faculty advisor for Freshwater Literary Journal (submissions welcome). He writes a monthly column on current events for his hometown newspaper, the Daily Hampshire Gazette, and his books include memoir, fiction, poetry, essays, political satire, and photography. Find him at JohnSheirer.com.