When I woke up in intensive care, the first face I saw was Daniel’s.
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“Mom, the surgery is over. Doctors say you’ve been through it well.
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I tried to smile.
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And the belly?
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It’s not like it anymore.
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He laughed slightly, but his eyes were red.
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The result of the pathological examination came a few days later.
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The formation was benign.
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When the doctor told us the news, Daniel covered his face with his palms.
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I hadn’t seen him cry like that since his father’s funeral.
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The recovery was slow. I needed help to walk, for dressing and for activities that I used to do alone.
