It lasted maybe a day, possibly two: pure bliss wrapped in metaphysic hue. I want to write it off as what meds can do—and maybe that’s all it was—but I woke one night from dreaming, a middle-of-the night lucidity, positive the universe was using my body as a healing grid. I could see it there pulsing. Pain ran free in among the boxes, an AC/DC current: awareness following close behind, dog’s nose to ground. I could heal anything inside the grid if only I could pin it there. And I did. I lay on top of the sheets, tinkering. And in the morning, for an hour or so, I was back to my old self; I knew I could walk again, and so could you.