I remember her biting wit, her intelligence, her brisk kindness. I hadn’t seen her in over twenty-five years. The other day, I heard her voice and saw her face from the end of the operating table. She was about to be anaesthetised for surgery. I was the surgical assistant.
I tried not to stare but her eyes kept scanning my face, despite the staff who were busying around her. I think she sensed I was someone she’d once known, but couldn’t place me. She was being given sedation and I knew she wouldn’t recall any conversation from that point onwards. It wasn’t the time to speak of the past – she had enough to deal with in the present. Within minutes, she was given the thick white liquid that sent her into oblivion.
I told the surgeon of my long-ago link with the patient, and although she knew some of her patient’s life story, I filled in a few more details. Mostly, how much her patient was respected and admired. She had sass, she had smarts and I thought she was the ants pants.
Wish I could have told her so.
Fiona, I seem to remember that as my GP you had plenty of your own sass, oodles of smarts & were widely respected by your adoring patients. I’ll pass on the ants pants as I have some reality issues with that metaphor!.
…so glad that your writing career is blossoming…well done.
Caroline Hooper
Hi Caroline! Hope all is going well with you. Thank you so much for your lovely comments and support 🙂
Hi Fi! Great to hear from you too. I am shrinking myself prior to spinal surgery next year, so all good vibes are most appreciated.
Your family must be so proud of you…..enjoy the perils & the pleasures of the process.
Cheers
Caroline H