The Surgery

Pain is a part of life. When you were a kid and scraped your knee or when you fold a
paper wrong and give yourself a papercut. Pain isn’t always physical, it can be mental.
Everyone goes through pain in one way or another. But there was one pain I will always
remember.
When I was about eight I remember my mom and I were talking about something on the
floor when she noticed a mole on the left side of my foot. I never noticed it or even cared for it
since I have freckles all over, I didn’t know how a mole would be any different. It was just a part
of me and I didn’t care. But she was worried. Apparently moles can be cancerous and she didn’t
want to chance it on her young daughter. I had already had a few concerns with the doctor such
as getting horrible fevers and a heart murmur. So she wanted to make sure everything was fine.
Even checking a tiny dark mole.
The day started out as any normal day. My brother and I would wake up and take our
usual places on the couch as our mom would bring us bowls if our favorite cereal to eat while
the cartoons played on the tv. We would laugh and joke and enjoy every bite. But as my brother
left for school my mom took me to a special doctor who knew about moles. I was happy of
course. Instead of going to school I was out on an adventure. As we went inside the building
things were very quiet. There was not a person around and the front desk sat empty. We both
found this odd but were able to find the elevator. After finding another empty floor that was
under construction and making a few jokes about how they went out of business we made it to
the right floor.
A handful of people greeted us as we were led to a room with a beautiful view. I was led
to the chair in the middle of the room as I sat, feeling like I was at the dentist with the weird
smell of overly clean surfaces and strong air fresheners. I removed my shoes and socks and the
doctor took a look at my mole. They explained everything and answered any questions my worried
mother had. Wanting to remove the mole as it looked ‘dangerous’. This was confusing. Was this
mole really so bad they had to remove it? It was just a weird freckle that took its place on the
side of my foot- not doing any harm. But they seemed to think otherwise.
They would burn, cut, or freeze it off. As I thought them over I thought of which one
would not hurt the most. Then I realized I wasn't being given the choice . The doctors proceeded to
cut off the top of the mole, it wasn’t painful but it was very uncomfortable. I could feel the cold
metal of the knife as it sliced over my skin feeling the air touch the now open wound. I watched
as they removed the top. Showing the light pink skin underneath as it began to bleed. I couldn’t
watch it. That poor mole losing its snug spot on my small foot, was no longer there. But they
weren’t done. A burning sensation scorched my skin around the fresh wound to guarantee the
mole would not return.
They finished everything as my foot was wrapped and we were free to go. I thought that
was the end of it all. No more doctors, no more cutting and messing with my foot. But it wasn’t.
Some time had passed and my mother explained that they only removed the top of the mole
and had to get the roots out so it would grow back. It was absolutely horrible news. I did not
want to go back and deal with more doctors cutting at me. Having no choice; we went.
We arrived at a new building where the doctor resided. It was made of brick that was
worn and cracking. Looking like it had seen more years than even my parents. Old cars were
parked in the parking lot as we went up the metal stars into the building and to the small waiting
room. A few other people sat in the room with us as we checked in. The lighting was gross and
yellow and the building itself looked like it would shut off at any moment. I felt anxious and
uninvited. Time seemed to creep along as nobody spoke. The ticking of the clock was piercing
into my ears. I just wanted this to be over.
An old man came out that was barely taller than me. He had a serious expression on his
face and looked like he was in a hurry. We were taken to an even smaller room with a big ugly
brown chair in the middle. It took up nearly all the space. I was told to take a seat as he
explained what was going to happen. He would numb the area and remove the roots. Explicitly
saying ‘I wouldn’t feel a thing’. That didn’t make me feel any better. Through all of this he never
once said I would wake up and it would all be over. I would be awake for this. I was horrified.
But there was no turning back.
He cleaned the area of my foot and put a bright orange numbing cream over my foot for
it to numb. He explained that he’d be back in fifteen minutes to check to see how it’s coming.
Fifteen minutes passed and nothing changed, then another, and another. The numbing wasn’t
working at all. Everytime he pinched my foot or poked an area, I could feel it. Like he didn’t put
anything on at all. I told him that each time until finally he didn’t believe me.
“I have someone else to see after you- so we’re going to get started.” He said, making my heart
sink. He didn’t believe me. How could he not believe me? Anger flooded over me as he
gathered his tools for the surgery. The chair slowly reclined back until I laid on my back.
Gripping the side of the chair as I made sure not to move. My parents watching over my
shoulder as he began. The slow cut of the knife slicing over my foot as it became cold. I could
do nothing but lay there. Staring at the ceiling as I bit my tongue to not scream and hit the man
away. Feeling every cut and pull he did as it felt as if it lasted forever. I was angry- and sad.
Angry in how he would do this and how my parents stood there. Sad on how I wasn’t heard and
had no choice. I was scared.
My skin pulled as he began to seal the skin closed. Hope rushed over me as it was
almost over and I would be out of there. Finally it was done. He moved the chair back up as I
reluctantly moved. Looking at my tightly wrapped foot not knowing what it looked like
underneath as I didn’t care. I just wanted to be home, alone, away from everyone and
everything.