The tiny blade pokes into my arm painlessly and the doctor hits the start button on the timer. He periodically wipes the blood away from the small cut and hits the timer again when it stops bleeding. He reads the timer and declares that everything is normal.
The drive to Portland seems pretty long to an eleven year old, especially on the second day in a row to see the ear nose and throat specialist. It certainly beats being in school though, and I’m looking forward to the possibility of getting better.
The visit lasts about five minutes and the doctor tells me I’m gonna need surgery tomorrow. Me and my mother head home in a hurry to get some sleep before driving back to Portland again. I’m feeling a sense of panic all night worrying about the prospect of surgery, having never been through one.
The doctors wheel me into the operating room and quickly put the mask over my face, and it puts me to sleep almost instantly.
Exactly. Nice feel for how to start and finish a vignette, where to stop, what to include.
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