So, there, I had the surgery. It was exhausting, no, not the physical pain. It was exhausting because for the first time in my life I felt so weak and helpless.
I was aware of almost everything that was happening around me. I could hear my anesthesiologist and my surgeon, and the nurse/s around me, whispering something in the air that my ears could hardly reach. I was not able to catch up everything, some words went too blurred for my mind to see; but I was only sure of one thing: they were talking about "damaging my breast."