Thursday, 10 March 2016

Slice Of Life

Dear Surgeon, 
{name removed to protect privacy} 

You probably don't remember me. That's fine; you see people like me everyday. 
But I remember you. Just over five years ago you saved my life. 

I don't quite know where to begin in expressing how thankful I am for that. 

Perhaps I could send you a card with a heartfelt message in it - (done that). 
I could cuddle you against your will, post-surgery - (done that). 
I could ugly-cry on you in a morphine-induced stupor and tell you I love you - (yes, I've sadly done that too...) 

But all of that would (did) probably embarrass you. 

When I say you saved my life I mean that quite literally. You performed a surgery which served to stop me exiting this world much earlier than I would've liked. 
However in doing so you also gave me my life back. I hadn't realised it was gone until I woke up. 
I'd all but given up hope of ever getting better. I'd resigned myself to a life of pain; I was in a pit of despair. 
Then I woke up and I was alive. I felt something like happiness for the first time in a long time and it was wonderful. 

I'm not sure how much of this I successfully expressed on the afternoon of my operation. I think I said something like "THANK-YOU I LOVE YOU I LIKE YOUR EYESHADOW THANK-YOU I LOVE YOU", but I'm sure you could read between the lines at what I truly meant. 

I know you probably think this is all over the top, and that you were just doing your job, blah blah blah, and maybe that's true. 
But I want you to know I am grateful for you and all you have done for me. You saved my life and gave me the chance to help others by sharing my experience. I can't ever repay you for what you and your amazing colleagues have done, and continue to do for people like me everyday, but I hope knowing I am alive and thriving goes someway to stand as a testament to your handiwork. 
Keep on slicin'; you're ever so good at it. 

All my love and intestines, 

Kathleen xox

P.S. Where do you get that eyeshadow, it's beautiful? 

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