While we were waiting for your one year
follow-up, I was counting men in the room
without wives, I was thumbing through
articles of revamps for kitchens and broken
bedrooms in need of whistles and bells.
I was planning our meal of bacon wrapped
steaks with cocoanut rice and artichoke soup,
thinking how exhausted I was from a night
of no sleep. While we were waiting for your
one-year follow-up, I guesstimated odds
for a chance of good outcomes, how many
people were being given bad news, how many
came expecting answers, how many knew
how to interpret the eye roll or the implausible
quiet that punctuates fear.