Surgical OPD
A frantic Google search on phone
To figure what the surgeon hid
Beneath his charming facade
A confounding jargon
Of procedures and tests
He knew me inside out
Strange! Wasn't it my body?
The first was an emergency
Critical...life and death situation
Three months later
The second incision
I asked him how long the cut was
He chuckled, "That should be your least concern right now?"
"Remember! It's my body, my guts, my feelings...you are talking of"
But I kept quiet
Even a sheepish smile I managed
Did he see through me?
After the third
He said, "Go back to routine. Lead a normal life."
What so normal?
New normal... You've scarred me right?
"The wounds have healed...no puss...no bleeding... "
"It's hard...no sensation when I touch it..."
"Apply coconut oil...give it six months...the suppleness will be back..."
Half a year to feel my own self
I laugh
My long lost friend apologized, "Am sorry! I did not know. I should have checked on you more often..."
"Never mind," I say forgivingly.
"I have survived..."
Today's Prompt : Scar
Shared with Poets And Storytellers United
Indeed, scars are the marks of our survival. We should wear them with pride!
ReplyDeleteTrue and well said
DeleteOh what a difficult experience but I am glad that you can write about your scars and you survived
ReplyDeleteYes. It was a difficult situation but writing about it I realise is catharctic.
ReplyDeleteI do sympathise with you and I think I know what you are talking about. I was just lucky I had an empathetic skilled surgeon ...no mastectomy although it could have easily been the case. Take care and thank you for your poems.
ReplyDelete