Friday, 31 August 2012

the calm before the storm

Growing older means I got wiser.
It means I got white hair.
It means I got an angiologist.
It also means that I should have learnt by now that the smoothest way to tell your parents something is wrong is not texting them while they're on holidays: "Hey, what's up? Btw, I need to get surgery done to a vein in the leg. Bye"

Yesterday I went for a scan of my old veins and it came out as result that I need to undergo surgery in about 2 months time. I texted my mum. She obviously freaked out so I had to call her back, yet I couldn't really tell much more than what I wrote her before.
Problem was that I couldn't concentrate on the matter at hand, pretty much as I couldn't yesterday.
It's nothing "that" serious (or so I like to tell myself: it seems I spend all my time between doctors, dentist and office recently and it's, oh well, unhealthy!).
After discussing the surgery, while the doctor was writing all the papers needed, I kept staring at him, desperately trying to find some question to ask, anything to fill the silence. But I couldn't.
I just stared at him, unsure of what to do, what to say: you see, my angiologist is the spitting image of Norman Stansfield, the corrupted and psycho agent played by Gary Oldman in Léon.
What could I have asked him? Whether he was a Mozart fan or not?

Well, I could ask it to my mum: I have to text her and tell her I'm going for the surgery in 3 weeks time, just to freak her out a little bit more...

1 comment:

  1. Spero che tutti va bene per te! Sei troppo giovane!

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