22/8/12
I lay in bed helpless for a few days, waiting for the surgeon to return from a conference in Ireland. At that time I remember being unable to open my eyes but I could hear. I knew that Mum & Dad & Dee were close. I remember a bishop, Peter, who came to pray for me (an old client of mine). I felt that breathing stopped becoming automatic. I had to consciously think about it for it to happen. Very weird…and shit. Mentally, I was a wreck. I was having the most intense and vivid nightmares, except I don’t think I was asleep. I think I was delirious. When I could, I took my thoughts fly fishing streams in the Otways or surfing at home during autumn. Although I had never meditated, I think I began meditating.
When the surgeon returned, he said that he would be willing to operate but I had to understand that I would come out of it with disability. He couldn’t specify the kind or extent of disability. He also made it clear that such surgery could end me. It was a massive roll of the dice but I felt I didn’t have a choice. I said let’s do it, so he did.
