The silence after the stent goes in

It’s not peace. It’s the kind of quiet that feels like holding your breath—like the heart knows it’s been saved, but hasn’t decided whether to keep beating. I stood there last night, watching the monitor stabilize, and for a second, I didn’t know if I was supposed to feel relief or dread. The music from the waiting room drifted through the door—somebody humming a tune I couldn’t place. I still don’t know what it was, but I’ve heard it three times since. Like a ghost note.