I just got out of my first operation to remove swollen lymph nodes under my arms last Saturday. It was September 5, 2009. It was quite a frightening experience. No, not so much the operation itself. I was operated by a breast surgeon at Pantai Hospital. The doc was great – Dr. Patricia was a no-nonsense but compassionate lady. The nurses at the hospital were very good – fast, knowledgeable, comforting and always smiling.
It was the anesthetist that was scary, or at least what he was capable of. I have totally no recollection of what happened to me the moment they pump anesthetic into me. I didn’t know how and where they cut me up. I didn’t know what they took out of me. I didn’t even know I had a tube chuffed down my throat until I complaint of tonsillitis to my doctor yesterday. I know that the doc did a good job. But I can’t help but still wonder every day, what exactly happened to me on the operation table. And it suddenly dawn on me how empty and violated those women who have been drugged and raped feel.
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