Mirage 2015
He wouldn't do it! That is, he wouldn't do it right away. He told me, quite firmly, that reconstructive surgery was a solemn, momentous decision, to be made only after lengthy consideration. He said I had to think it over for a month, or at the very least two weeks, before he would consent to do the procedure. “You've lived with the face your Maker gave you all this time. Surely you can stand it for another fourteen days. Many people, in the end, choose to stick with their original physiognomy, no matter how unsightly, unfortunate, or repulsive.” I begged. I got down on my hands and knees—I'm not ashamed to admit it—and kissed his foot, as tears of yearning ran down my face. “I don’t need time to think it over,” I pleaded. “I want the Roman Patrician. I can't live without it! Please, Dr. Pettingil.” “I'm very sorry.” “I'll pay you anything! Anything!” “Perhaps it could be arranged,” he conceded. “You may make an appointment with Michelle for tomorrow morning, if you truly wish.” Oh, I did. I sobbed out my gratitude, and the contract I signed became so damp with tears that Michelle had to dry it out under a heat lamp to be sure the signature was legally legible. I camped on the doorstep of the clinic that night, and when Michelle opened the portals early the next morning I rushed in like a steroid-crazed fullback, shouting, “I'm ready! Make it happen! Transform me! I'm ready!” “Easy, tiger,” she said. She handed me a stack of forms—many, many forms—to fill out, and I signed over money—much, much money, for optional extras such as anesthetic and bandages—and then it was time. Michelle had never looked better as she gathered up the papers, and I reflected to myself that once I had my new prow in place, maybe she would look at me with equal interest. How could she resist the Roman Patrician? I remember very little about the actual surgery—mostly on account of the drugs that were given to me. Dr. Pettingil did not scrimp on the drugs, not a bit. No wonder he was Surgeon to the Stars. It all passed in a kind of blurry swirl and float and buzz—and that was just the pre-op conference. The actual procedure was simply
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