The 'Professional' Her Heart

Being just released from the hospital a few days past, let us reflect a moment in a short prayer. Chronic pain had nearly robbed me of grace, being civil under stress was nearly out of the question. Yes, 'being so near to death, many times in my life. Leaves me a bit phobic of hospitals perhaps in my youth, it is by a few, 'known. At first being around so many, nurturers left me feeling guilty, ashamed at my child like, 'naivety. One nurse after my pain subsided and my trying to charm her, 'said' We are professionals, I am not here to make, friends. Being, 'Russian and well disciplined left me deep in thought, as I had never in my extensively traveled...did you smile? Having ever met a real, 'Russian woman. Asking of her: to draw close, near to my lips, with her good ear. Drawing upon, what I had not used in a while, showing no fear, a Russian..woman of heart. The voice coming from deep down inside. Like the wind slowly building, moving the trees seven levels of octaves password, downward and downwards, moving the hair of the fine inner ear shaking the thin parabolic tympanist membrane, that wards off and guards the moist inner ear. Shaking loose in a good way, three hearing bones and being in a profession holding full of discernment with empathy she having much richness of heart, her face relaxed and briefly she went back to some place far away and I have a better understanding from whence comes my pain and they made me feel and were all full of grace, unafraid of those words before one looks in the eyes of the other, we see.