I’ve been cut open. Though, this time the cut is deep and precise. The Blade knew exactly where It needed to go. It knew which tools were coming in after It and what they were extracting. And in that Knowing, It cut to a depth I have not experienced since being wounded.

It cut to the core of my being.

Here I lie on the Doctor’s table, bleeding – yet, not bleeding out. I’m under the Care of my Doctor this time. She knows what She needs to get rid of and exactly where it resides. She’s poking and prodding. More cutting. Anesthesia was too risky – the danger too great for me to go under. No, for this operation, I need to be fully awake – fully present.

The pain is almost unbearable at times. She cuts and I scream. I cry. I want to run but I can’t. If I leave before She’s through the disease will stay inside and fester within me and I’ll continue to spread it to others. I sit through this pain on the table because my dis-ease is too great. I can’t truly live while this…this villain…remains.

“Get it out! Please!” I beg. “Take it away! Make it better!”

The pain is too much now. Everything goes black.  There is nothing here, my head tells me. No one is here with you. You are alone. I begin to panic until blackness covers me again.

A hand strokes my face; a warm, gentle hand. A voice speaks from somewhere off in the distance. “I’m here, Celeste. I’m still here. See?” A smile as bright as the first day of spring flashes at me and radiant eyes look into my soul.

The pain isn’t so bad now. The Doctor sees me come to then continues her Work. Her nurses kindly tending to me as She works. It feels like I’ve been lying here for days now… What is taking so long, I wonder to myself. Frustrated, I start to squirm.

“Don’t move, Celeste,” the Doctor says firmly to me. “I need you still right now or I could cut an artery.” Even though the statement is a powerful one – the difference between life and death – I hate being uncomfortable; and in pain. “Just a little bit longer,” she exudes Love as she speaks. “I haven’t removed it all, yet. I’m almost there. I just need to get this little – ”

Someone is screaming. The sound is piercing like a thousand fingernails fighting for their lives on an old chalkboard. There is a hollowness to the high pitch; what a once cherished but now long-forgotten home might feel like. The scream comes again.

There is a little girl in the corner of the chilled room. She’s wearing a black nightgown made of velvet. Her freshly cut hair brings out her rosy cheeks. She isn’t more than 10 – innocence still intact, I can see that, but it’s wavering. Not much longer until it’s gone.

Someone – something – is hurting her. I try to get up, but I’m too weak to move. The pain is too great and I feel an emptiness I didn’t feel before as though I no longer exist. I look for the Doctor but She isn’t there. Where is She? The little girl needs Her! I call for help but my voice is gone.

Crying, I watch as the little girl gets pummeled. With each hit, I feel myself fading away. “Someone help her…” My small voice finally manages little more than a whisper. The dark figure beating the girl stops abruptly as though it had been startled by something. Back turned to me, it raises its head. I watch carefully as long threads of hair slither down its body.

The creature slowly turns like it’s afraid to see whatever is behind it. I too am afraid for I cannot run; there is no escape. I am completely open and vulnerable just like the bloody pile of velvet now barely conscious on the floor.

As the beast continues to turn, there is something familiar about it. And that frightens me more than only a moment ago. My tears know only they can escape and they fly down my face in a frenzy. With every bit of life I have left, I yell, “DON’T – ”

It’s too late; she’s already turned. Her eyes are exquisite – the bluest ice I’ve ever seen. Her face looks like it has been sculpted by a broken-hearted Michael Angelo; she’s a fallen angel. Tears are streaming down her face.

There’s not enough air in the room. I can’t breathe. My lungs desperately search for the life-giving substance.

This creature… this woman…

… is me…

Everything is black once more. Somewhere in the distance, the little girl’s scream can be heard again. I feel warmth in my body. I can feel my body now. It feels…full. There’s a Voice coming from somewhere, too; the Voice is quiet but I can hear it over the scream. “It’s Okay,” It whispers softly. It’s over now.” I manage to open my eyes to a kind smile and pure eyes. “See?” the Doctor points to where my wound once was.

I look down and notice the screaming has stopped. The howling – it had been me.

No more blood. It’s clean. The Doctor did Her job. She touches the old wound as I gaze in awe. Any pain I might have been feeling washes away with Her touch. I feel Love pulsing through me.

“You’re healing now. Rest and be good to yourself. I’m right here if you need Me.”

I rest – allowing myself to be.

And the little girl smiles.


  • Joanne

    “radiant eyes look into my soul.” Iove this work your doing. So many of use have this wounding but very few ever have the courage to look at it head on fully present with GOD in hand. GOOD WORK !!!

  • Jodi Dillon

    Thank you, Celeste
    This is beautifully written