i get there and am told, unfortunately it really is an emergency surgery, that i can not attend, the rest doesnt really stick.

much later i can see clearly: the doctor has acted in best intentions, telling me to take my time. OF COURSE i woulda wrecked the van face-down in the ditch about 4 nano seconds after the word "emergency surgery", not the trace of a doubt! so, very loudly and clearly - most of all honestly: thanx ms. guerbuez, that was very far-sighted!

so, surgery. anesthetics. time-space-DIScontinuum. after ages and innumerable comforting attempts by the midwifes (you ARE angels, and i WILL find your wings, one day!), noises come from the other end of the corridor: beeping. and hissing. or puffing... a team of no less than three people rolls a strangly small, but tall bed past me: my first child. even the gender unknown at this time. the second team notices me. "are you the dad?" - "yes!" - "congrats!" time can be like glue. enough to make me convince myself that i didnt see numbers 1 and 2, but 2 and 3. finally beeping, puffing. the third team even stops - briefly. the dad-question, congratulations, info: "this one here is a boy!"

our little three-headed dragon has landed. we are a grand-family. me, i am little, too. tiny! i need to grow. fast. i must be strong, must comfort, lead, support. how?

the midwife says, in 10 minutes my wife comes out of the ER. i say i'll be back in 9. actually i quit smoking. but now i need one. for growth!