When the surgeon gazed into my thigh and visualised where his scalpel would trace a line toward the Lump he made a few marks on the leg and signed the canvas with an initial.
 |
The arrow marks the spot.
|
The same morning I has asked the anesthetist if she could take some photographs of the occasion as the surgeon had said he would be too busy. She took the camera I provided and said, "are you sure? "
I was gaily wheeled up the two floors to the operating theatre. A place with big windows and views of the Dandenongs. A place inhabited by strong intense people who say little and look into you with great intimacy. "Are you allergic to anything ? " I am asked in many different ways. I get a white hat indicating I do not (that I know of). A red hat would indicate I do. We joked about hats as I was wheeled into the the surgeons office. A place with music playing and various people getting equipment ready. The anesthetist played with my wrist and that was the last I knew of anything until I found myself in the Room 216 downstairs that afternoon.
 |
| The Lump where it has been living |
 |
| The muscle where it lies with the cavity filled by wadding. |
 |
| The excised lump with a margin of healthy tissue to ensure everything is removed. |
 |
| The cavity left behind. |
 |
| The drain which would stay in for the next few days to allow for excess fluids to flow away from the wound. |
No comments:
Post a Comment