|
|
|
|
1990
Literary Art
Visual Art
|
|
|
New Wineskins
Catherine Quigg
She ran her fingers down her flat stomach and across the new, firm breasts. They were finally hers, after all this time, the body she had longed for. The needles sticking into her arms in various places were of no bother at all. After so many months of needles and wires and tubes attached to her, a few more weeks or months would be no trouble at all.
If only there was a mirror she could look at. She really did want to see how the face had turned out. It was frightfully bothersome not to know what one looked like. She tried to feel around, but she was still too weak from the anesthetic. The only thing she was conscious of was the bandage swathing her head.
A small noise made her turn, as much as she could turn, to see who had entered.
"Good to see our favorite patient is awake," a familiar voice said. "How are you feeling Mrs. Simms?"
"As well as can be expected," she said weakly. "I'm not dead. Can I assume the surgery was a success then?"
"Just like in the laboratory."
"Good. I'm still very tired. When do you think I'll get my strength back?"
The doctor was peering into her eyes with a light. "You've just had major surgery Mrs. Simms. It's going to be awhile before you can jump around and dance again."
"Does that mean I'll be able to! Oh doctor, it's been so long since I've even been able to walk, much less dance."
"We're going to have to take this one day at a time," he said as he scribbled something down on the pad. "I'm surprised you can even talk again so soon."
"You're a good doctor," she whispered. "Thank you for this. It's given me a second chance you know."
"Don't thank me yet. You're on high doses of anti-rejection drugs, but there's still a chance ..."
"I know, there's still a chance of rejection. But that's a chance I'm willing to take."
The doctor sat down in the chair next to her. "This procedure is highly experimental. You may not live out the week."
"I'm a strong woman, 1 always have been."
"I know, that's the only reason we were willing to try this on a woman your age."
"That and my generous contributions to your facility here."
"Every little bit helps Mrs. Simms."
She lay quietly while he examined her arms and legs, checking for nerve sensation and muscle flexibility. "How long has it been Doctor?"
"How long since when?"
"Since the surgery?"
"A couple of weeks. You've been in and out of consciousness most of that time. This is the first time you've come around fully. Do you feel this Mrs. Simms?"
The doctor poked her foot with something sharp. The sensation made her gasp. "Fine, fine." he continued. "You may make it through this after all."
Mrs. Simms nodded softly. "There was a funeral I suppose?"
"Yes," he answered. "I understand it was quite lovely. You had many good friends and admirers in the community."
"A few leeches too I'm afraid."
"Well, when one has money that's to be expected."
"Very true," she said. "Did my lawyers take care of everything as I instructed them?"
"Yes Mrs. Simms. Your surgery and hospital stay will be compensated and a large monthly allowance will be deposited into your private account for you to live on. You should be quite comfortable."
"Thank you for your help doctor. You've been very kind."
"You're more than welcome Mrs. Simms," he said, patting her hand gently. "Now I want you to get some rest."
The doctor turned to leave the small white room when her voice stopped him. "Please doctor, one more thing."
"Anything you like."
"May I look in a mirror? I just want to know how it turned out. What I look like I mean."
She thought she saw him smile under the surgical mask. At least his eyes smiled. "We thought you might ask, so we had one specially sterilized for you. Here you go."
He lifted the silverplated mirror up before her curious eyes. She shook a little at the surprising reflection.
"Most of the bruising is healed," he said. "This should be a pretty fair representation of how you'll look when you leave here."
"So young," she whispered. "She ... I am so young."
"The donor was twenty-six years old. She died of a brain tumor. No other organs were affected by the cancer, so she was the perfect recipient."
'"Who was she?"
"Her name was Deanne, she was married with no children, but she is perfectly able to conceive if you would ever like to have any kids."
"Her husband let you do this?"
"He understood the importance."
Mrs. Simms gazed at the reflection again. "It's hard to believe that's me ..."
"That your brain is transplanted into another woman's body. We could have just as easily made you a man, but we preferred your brain be placed in the body of your own sex. It is what you're used to."
"It might have been interesting to spend this life as a man," she said thoughtfully, "But you're right, after sixty-eight years it would be hard to change."
"We were lucky with this donor. The blood and tissue matched exactly and her family was happy to go along with the experiment," he said. "Besides, I don't think you could have held out much longer without a donor. I'm going to get out of here now, you get some sleep. There are two nurses who'll be glad to help you if you need anything."
"Thank you doctor, Doctor Wilson wasn't it," she whispered. "Oh doctor, are you married?"
He stopped in his tracks then turned slowly to face his patient. "I'm a widower Mrs. Simms."
"I'm sorry. When did she die?"
"About two weeks ago .. Mrs. Simms."
|
Home | Awards | Issues
|
|