Song & Dance of a 3-Time Cancer Survivor
OPERATION BLIND DATE
The Heroine had many operations.
Let's see how she makes fun out of this…
Heroine's opening speech
I don't like any kind of operation –
not even of the mild, cosmetic sort.
Now how to best exploit this situation?
Well, dental treatment, too,
makes me distraught,
so I said, wheel me to the dental department
while I am still out cold, and fix my teeth –
making the most of the anaesthetic and NHS funds!
They refused. Of course!
Overture to your op.
Overture has overtones of opening up
An investigative beginning –
Ah, a bit grim!
Surgeon (smile benignly):
We have a date at an operating table for two –
by the window.
This is a blind date –
an NHS patient cannot be sure of which surgeon.
But at least please don't be late –
you doctors are so used to being late!
You can't keep time.
You would never make it as musicians!
There is this “Nil by Mouth” sign hung high above my bed.
Nil by mouth –
nothing but a tiny, tasteless pill, by mouth.
Though you wilt and plead starvation –
it is still, Nil, by Mouth.
I am to be emptied inside out.
What a preparation for this blind date!
We prepare ourselves – 'scrubbing up'.
You have a pre-med 'cocktail' beforehand.
Not wearing Chanel No 5,
but some potent antiseptic for our date!
Anaesthetist: (with gestures like a magician)
I will put you under my spell – anaesthetic.
Nurse: (with anxiety)
The patient has already had anaesthetic –
she's nearly unconscious,
but the surgeon is still not here!
Heroine: (mumbling, worried)
I am still conscious –
I can hear you!
Where the hell is he, the surgeon, my date?!
Surely he won't be so late,
that I'd come to in the middle of the op?!
Surgeon: (rushes in, cocksure of himself)
I am spick and span, wearing a dashing white suit.
I have a blue gown –
With a fine cut – exposing the part.
What sinister intimacy!
No soft lights this date of ours
but blinding bright ones.
When I wake in the morning
Will I have flowers by the bed?
When you wake you will look like an octopus
with tubes like arms, extending from your body –
the aftermath of this intimacy!
Heroine's final speech:
When I wake
there are flowers from unexpected visitors –
while I was still in a blissful sleep,
a friend has placed photos on my bedside table
for me to see faces that I know when I come to.
_ _ _
Some cancer operations make patients feel incomplete!
Some cancer treatments make one feel deficient!
What did our Heroine see?
She sees some strange behaviour.
Is she frightened?
Is she… what?
See next, Act 5: