Fighting lady – the operation
fall off 2013
At 2pm, I enter the clinic. They prepare me for the operation the following morning. They place a wire in the breast that is to be operated on. It’s a kind of a long needle, a very thin metal thread, which goes all the way to the tumor and will guide the surgeon to it so he can remove it. It isn’t painful, but it is unpleasant because I have to sleep with it.
Then my surgeon arrives. He wants to map out some reference points on my body with a marker, to help him do the most esthetic job he can. I get up, take off my blouse and go over to the window where the light is better.
It’s a beautiful evening, the sky is clear. I can almost see my house in the distance, on the edge of this town that suddenly seems so peaceful. The thought of my home and of the moments spent with Bruno and the children comforts me and helps me forget the lines being drawn on my skin.
At every place the surgeon leaves a mark on my body, I can picture the scalpel. I’m afraid he will remove a part of me, a part that will be gone forever. I turn my head towards him and try to catch his eye. As always, he avoids mine. He’s concentrating, doesn’t say a word, as if totally absorbed by the task he’s performing. I know he’ll do his best, I know his reputation. He is considered an expert and an artist in his field. Will this operation be a success?