Day 7

The surgeon fixes a mask to my face and instructs me to count backwards from ten.

Ten

For some reason, the image of my friends and me skateboarding at the park comes to mind. I’m reminded of how effortless skating came to me. To be ten again.

Nine

When my daughter was born, she was oxygen deprived for nine minutes. I’ll never forget the blue violet hue of Janey’s skin.

Eight

I glance at the doctor, he looks panicked. He’s fiddling with the gauges and knobs on the tanks.

Seven

Mom? Why’s Janey with you? It’s time for what?

Si-