52 The Meadow 20:51 | 120/79mmHg | ♥ 69 bpm | 37.9 °C | SpO2 92% “Michael!” Adrenaline rush. Pupils dilate. Heat evacuates through my pores. The inflammation subsides and…just like that, air rushes down my windpipe. The molecular revolution sounds like tires spinning on gravel. My first inhalations are followed by a series of pops—elasticated snaps that arrive in sets of threes. Air bubbles burst in my ears as blood congeals, plasma thickens, and organs stretch. Fibers twitch and contracted alveoli puff up, reopening for business. My body reestablishes a new baseline in time with the cadence of a heart that, in search of its own diffuse logic, beats a mantra inside my chest. The eerily transcendent rhythm guides the reactivation of my senses. Full bladder. Aching joints. Pain behind my eyes. Corrosive taste of metal on my lips. With the return of my faculties I conclude I’m the recipient of a windfall, so I flap my wrists in a ‘come hither’ motion. It’s time to collect my winnings. Someone pass me my chips. Katherine smiles. The doctor nods. Peter wipes a bead of sweat from his temple. They quietly acknowledge their success at pulling another body back from the brink. That sheared edge of animation where the crush of pressure can usher in permanent darkness. Where everything dims unless there’s enough expansion for light to filter in. The feat momentarily shifts the mood in a space where accidents, genetics, and external catalysts irrevocably alter physical vessels. Inflamed organs, clotted veins, weeping wounds, and driving under the influence, plus dehydration, system failures, arrested hearts, storms of cytokines, and minds and bodies in various stages of brokenness. A chemical imbalance in Nancy’s brain caused her perception to collapse. A decade of drug use prompts the heartbeat of Code Blue to take flight. As for me, my arch nemesis is
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