Jaye Marie and Anita Dawes

Another one from the archives, brought to mind after the most recent adventures under the scalpel…

The fog of anesthesia was still dreamily persistent. Perhaps that’s what made the throwaway comment temporarily acceptable. “…Oh and we removed your appendix while we were in there.” I felt obliged to rouse myself enough to ask the question. It wasn’t as if there was much left ‘in there’ for them to rummage through anyway. They’d already had more than their fair share of my innards and they never put them back where they found them when they’ve had them out to play.

“Why?”

“It was unusual.” Anesthesia is a wonderful thing when you are dropping the arbitrary removal of body parts into a conversation. Waking up was suddenly my main priority and it wasn’t happening. But no-one ever reads the appendix anyway.

“You can go home now.” The surgeon’s voice dragged me back…