“You’re sure you want to do this?” My mother hovers over me.
I have already reminded her ten times that I can’t eat anything before my surgery, but she still clutches a breakfast burrito in her hand ready to hand it to me at a moment’s notice. For her, food is love and food wards off any danger to my person. Perhaps she remembers how Hades won Eurydice for half a year by getting her to eat some pomegranate seeds and believes such a ploy will give her more control over the outcome of my surgery. If she had to deal with pangs of gull stones, she wouldn’t be so anxious to keep me intact.
“Mom, we’ve been through this,” I put up my hands to fend off her attempt to wave the breakfast burrito under my nose again.
“But, honey,” she protests as soft-soled feet pad into the room, cutting off her next argument.
“Okay, ladies, give each other a hug. Miss Perry needs to get ready to go down to surgery.” The nurse smiles sweetly at us.
“I can help her,” my mother insists.
“Now, now, Mrs. Perry, you can relax in the waiting room. I’ve heard we have new magazines this week.” She places a gentle hand on my mother’s shoulder and guides her to the door.
My mother continues to protest, but the nurse artfully deflects her and offers assurances that I will remain healthy and safe in as few words as possible. Then she turns to me. She breaths a sigh of relief.
“I can tell how much your mother loves you by how much convincing it took for her to let me do my job.”
“Oh, I know. Trust me I know.”
“So are you ready to be free of gall stones for life?”
“Yes.” I say with a sigh and lay back to pull the blanket up to my chin.
“Glad to hear it. Let’s just double check something.” She draws the sheet down and gentle lifts one corner of my gown. “Yep. Still there.”
I peek down at the x carefully written in over my gall bladder. “You said it was semi-permanent marker and we put it on less than an hour ago.”
“Yes, but your mom seems very determined.”
“Good point.” I giggle as she covers me back up with the sheet and raises the safety bar.
“Time to roll,” she declares as she pushes me out into the hall, where another nurse steps up to the foot of the bed.
I rest my head on the pillow and close my eyes. Watching the hallways with their dull walls spin by makes me dizzy. Soon I am breathing deeply of the gas that will help me sleep through the procedure. As my eyelids drift toward each other, the door opens and a surgeon enters. I try to smile at him and then I realize this surgeon has dark brown eyes. My surgeon has pale blue eyes, almost the color of a clear summer sky.
~~
I wake up in an unfamiliar room. A long, purple curtain separates me from someone moaning sleepily nearby. A few nurses argue in hushed tones about who should be waking up soon. I try to sit up and fall sideways, squeaking in surprise. The voices subside and the curtain moves.
“You’re up early.” One of the nurses pulls back the curtain and steps forward to gently reposition me against the pillow. “Someone will be here soon to help you back to your room.”
I nod my head and nestle back into the pillow. Soon I am resting my eyes as two nurses navigate my bed through the maze of hallways. Back in my room, I find a new nurse waiting to help me with my recovery.
“Hello, Miss Perry,” he greets me, eyeing the reflexive movement of my right hand . “You shouldn’t scratch the incision.”
“But it itches.”
“Then let’s take a look at it, shall we?” He steps forward and waits for me to nod my head before unveiling my stomach. His confusion mirrors mine as gauze and dressing is unveiled that covers my entire midsection. “That’s odd. Dr. Lance was scheduled to do this surgery laparoscopically. There should only be one little square of gauze.”
“And a quick recovery,” I feel tension rising in my chest and temple as I wonder if something went wrong.
“I’ll be right back.” He covers me back up and disappears into the hallway.
I hear the soft sound of hushed voices. The conversation goes on for a while. Soon I recognize my mother’s voice as she demands admittance. The nurse informs her that I won’t be seeing any visitors until I have spoken with the doctor, which increases the volume and anxiety of her demands. Another voice rises to match hers, leading her away down the hallway.
A few minutes later, two doctors enter the room. Dr. Lance frowns down at his hands, refusing to meet my eyes. The second doctor can’t take his eyes off of me, the same eyes from the operating room. He scans my face over and over, shaking his head in response to some inner turmoil. My nurse returns, giving the doctors the same look I got on my one trip to the principal’s office. He steps forward to take my hand reassuringly.
“The doctors have something to tell you.”
Dr. Lance gestures toward the new doctor. “This is my colleague, Dr. Newsome. He has an explanation and apology for you.”
Dr. Newsome glares and sets his jaw as he bites out a few words for me. “Our operating room assignments got mixed up, so you received the surgery my patient was supposed to receive and Dr. Lance removed my patient’s perfectly healthy gallbladder.”
“I don’t understand. How could that happen?”
“You both had an x in the same spot since your surgeries were taking place on the right side of your abdomen.” Dr. Lance explains.
“So what surgery did I get?” I ask, feeling anxiety building.
By way of explanation, the nurse gently snips the bandages away. “Dr. Newsome is a plastic surgeon.” He gently pulls back the gauze, so I can look down at battered striations across one half of my stomach.
“I don’t understand.” I murmur.
“My patient wanted the appearance of well-defined abdominal muscles on one side of her body.”
“Who would want this?” I weep as I look down at my three pack abs.
“You’d be surprised what people pay to have done to themselves.” The nurse mutters, but closes her mouth tight when the doctor throws him a disapproving look.
“Obviously, Dr. Newsome and I will cover the cost of the surgery and the other two surgeries you will need to make this right.” Dr. Lance assures me.
“Two surgeries?” My eyes widen at the thought of going back into an operating room after this debacle.
“Yes, Miss Perry, I would still like to remove your gallbladder, when you are done recovering from this…” He waves his hand at my abdomen. “And Dr. Newsome has agreed to either reverse this current surgery, which he could do as soon as an operating room opens or do the same thing to the other side.”
I place a protective hand over my unmarred side, looking to the nurse for moral support. “I guess I am going back into surgery to reverse it?”
She squeezes my hand, “I can stay with you, if you like.”
I nod my head. I have only just met the nurse, but I trust her more than either of the doctors.
“Let’s get you ready then.”She turns scolding eye to the doctors, who almost trip over each other in their hurry to get out of the room.
Soon I am dressed in a fresh gown and cap and ready to go under the knife one more time. Hopefully, this time I don’t come back out as a completely different person.
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