THE WEIGHTLESSNESS OF FLOATING upside down is freeing, staring up at an azure sky, glistening sunlight.

Warm in a pool of water, cradled completely by it, palms waving gently overhead, tall sentinels.  Objects may be larger than they appear.

It could be anywhere.  The Mirage at Vegas.  A saltwater pool in Venice.  Surrounded by waterfalls in Hawaii, with soft breezes, mauka showers, the smell of plumeria, birds at sunset.

Close your eyes and everything goes, the unquiet melting into turquoise warm.

Floating.  Floating anywhere, nowhere.  Nothing to disturb, nothing to carry.

Floating.

Then a backstroke.  And another. 

Stroke.

It's a powerful word, alternately threatening and soothing.

Stroking a kitten.  Having a stroke of genius, or very good luck.  Stroking one's ego.  Being a stroke up. 

Doing the backstroke.

Stroke, stroke.  Glide.  The water will take you where you want to go.

Feet ease down into hot sand, stretch, caress, explore.  No weight there, no pressure, no pain.  Curl up, let go, and float.

Stroke.

It's a powerful word.

The weightlessness of floating upside down, staring up at a glistening ceiling, monitors overhead, palms waving, the unquiet, the chirp of machines.

Close your eyes and everything goes, goes away, way beyond the stroke, to a place where silent sentinels stand in the breeze and caress.  

Feel the sand.  Hear the birds.  

Cardiovascular disease continues to be one of the most formidable and sinister killers in the United States.  Stroke is currently the third leading cause of death behind heart disease and cancer and the most significant disease affecting long-term disability.

Every 40 seconds in the US someone suffers a stroke, and every four minutes, someone dies from one. 

For more information on cardiovascular disease and stroke, including transient ischemic attacks (TIA), see:   The American Stroke Association

For more information on caregiving, see:   Heart of Caregiving 

photo "Floating" by Kathy Riordan