Dear Olive

The procedure started off like a normal office visit with my GP. A medical assistant came out of a side door to usher me back into a room. She stopped about halfway down a long hall to get my height and weight.

I was quite a bit taller than she was and probably almost as skinny. My arms were particularly scrawny and she fought to tighten the blood pressure cuff around one of them. As she inflated it to get my readings, I stared at her colorful scrubs.

They had cartoon characters on them with words bubbles coming out of their mouths. Her name tag was a word bubble as well with, “Hi, I’m Allie,” written on it in big bold print. It almost seemed kind of childish at first, but then I thought about it.

Most of the clinic's patient’s had probably just turned sixteen. They were still young adults that were undergoing a life changing alteration. The clinic was probably trying to mimic the comforting aspects of a pediatric hospital.

The medical assistant did seem really nice. She tried to put me at ease with a gentle hand pat and a reassuring shoulder rub.

“Dr. Edelstein will be right with you,” she said as she put her equipment away and capped a vial of my blood. I wondered why she needed it, but I didn’t want to ask too many questions.

I felt like doctor’s offices always took blood. They probably just wanted to screen it and make sure I was healthy. There had been stories in the newspapers and online that people with certain genetic problems could not be reborn.

I wondered and worried about that as I looked around the sterile room. Clean white wall and more posters, similar to the lobby. There were also a few pamphlets spread out on a low wicker table.

I snagged one and hopped back onto the examination chair. My bare feet dangled over the edge and a slight breeze came up through the skirt of my hospital gown. I couldn’t help feeling exposed as I read up on my future.

The pamphlet wasn’t exactly a detailed description on what was going to happen though. It sort of skimmed over any unpleasant parts and used a lot of buzzwords like change and rebirth. By the time the doctor walked into my room, I was feeling anxious about what was about to take place.

Dr. Edelstein looked like he had stepped out of one of the daytime TV drama that my Nan used to watch. He had dark curling brown hair with a few splashes of silver in it. His teeth were straight and white and there was a small dimple in the center of his chin.

He was accompanied by an equally attractive African American man in pale green scrubs. He was pulling an IV stand with the bag attached to it. I stared suspiciously at the clear fluid inside of the bag and then back at my doctor.

Dr. Edelstein motioned toward the dark skinned man next to him and said, “This is our anesthesiologist, Marcus. He’s going to set up your IV for your intravenous sedation. It will put you into a twilight sleep. You will be comfortable, calm, relaxed, and you won’t remember a thing.”

I didn’t know a lot about medicine or how operations worked, but I did think to ask, “Shouldn’t it be general anesthesia, if I’m having surgery?”

Dr. Edelstein cocked a perfectly formed eyebrow and echoed back, “Surgery?”

“Well, I mean... I'm looking at you and it has to be plastic surgery right? How else could you be so perfect.”

I felt stupid and naive as Dr. Edelstein and Marcus exchanged amused looks. How could I possibly know what I was doing? No one talked about the change at school or in the media.

Being reborn was far more taboo than sex. Everyone pretty much knew how that worked at a young age. Maybe if I’d been more interested in the change I would have a better idea of what it involved.

Marcus walked up to me and started preparing my arm for the needle. As he cleaned my skin with alcohol, Dr. Edelstein said, “I know you must have lots of questions. You will have answers to them. The anesthesia will be hitting you soon though, so we don’t have much time to discuss things. I can tell you that you are in good hands though and this will be the best decision that you ever make.” `

I nodded and tried to respond, but I couldn’t quite open my mouth. Then the room started to darken and I felt myself drifting away. It’s fine, I thought. I’m just falling asleep. I’ll wake up and be someone completely new. Nothing will ever hurt me again.