At some point in the conversation, I clarified, so the choices are 'dead' or 'terrified'?
Yes, she said.
Well, I'd have to choose 'terrified' wouldn't I? Dead is pretty final.
She asked me to think about it, over the next little while.
My decision was required minutes later, as it turned out.
I had barely returned to the bench seat which would have been so much more comfortable if only a few inches deeper.
We'd been discussing recipes and the odds and sods of life for an hour or more. But on my return I had a new topic of discussion. It is testament to this stage of our life that we can discuss life choices as calmly as any other topic. With our raising, our dips and our turns into confusion, and finding our way to a deep well of revelations, we now trust and care for each other in all things these days. Sisters who are our mother.
They wheeled me in and the theatre stood by as I was asked for my decision. I said what I wanted, and what I meant was: I know the risks, and I choose death over time spent being terrified, and now I expect you to do your job and make choices that don't kill me.
Cut forward to half an hour after being discharged, we were sitting at the dining table watching the Oscars. Australians have a delayed telecast for those who want to watch the Oscars in peak hour viewing hours, so every news site had already spoiled the result.
We watched the announcement of the Best Movie award, the kerfuffle between Warren Beaty and Faye Dunaway, and then the cast of La La Land climbed up onto the stage. The whole time, I am thinking, my god, when do they find out it is all a mistake?
The appearance on screen amongst the stars, of an unknown wearing a head mic and a worried expression was the first sign something had gone wrong.
Then others stepped up and sorted it out, culminating in the most memorable Oscars night ever.
And I thought someone, somewhere is 'dying' behind the scenes.
I am glad they weren't working in my operating theatre. :)