There’s an intimacy about plastic surgery that a lot of people won’t comprehend. There are so many relationships – existing and co-existing – at the time of surgery.
The relationship between the surgeon and the patient … one of trust that may be laced with a touch of anxiety on the part of one or both parties.
The relationship between the patient and the anesthesiologists … an understanding of a dependency not verbalized in its entirety because we’ve only just met.
The relationship between the nurse and the patient that seems immediately motherly, though both you and her know … she ain’t yo momma.
Others come in and out of the room and short glimpses here and there start to fade as the focus becomes between you and oxygen. Your own breath never seemed like something to have a relationship with, yet here you are now wondering if this breath is….
And then, in the blink of an eye, all of the relationships merge into one as the surgeon says “scalpel.”
…and then, just like that, the skin is gently kissed….
A moment passes, then you open your eyes.
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