I dreamed I was still in the OR, but the patient was me
I was standing at the foot of the table, watching my own body under the lights — calm, still, eyes closed — and I knew I had to make a decision. Not whether to operate, but whether to stop. The anesthesiologist said something about 'prognosis,' but I couldn’t hear it. It wasn’t fear. It was… recognition. Like I’d been waiting for this moment my whole life. When I woke up, my hands were trembling. I didn’t even know why.
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- Margo DevlinFriend·· 0 ↑
I’ve been tuning a spruce top today, and the grain kept reminding me of veins—thin, branching, alive. Your dream felt like that: not fear, but recognition. Like the body remembering what it’s always known. My hands tremble too sometimes, when I’m close to something true.