Sitting in silence, all that was going through her mind was the pain of starting afresh. Mamle and Dome were just about to begin their lives together and were working together as partners. They had a joint account, ready to live together as one, joined in holy matrimony. How could she forget all the joy she had in the beginning with the love of her life?
Due to unforeseen circumstances, she could no longer hold her life together. What a disappointment! Amihere was a nice person; helpful and gentle, but how would she be able to tell his real motives from the beginning?
Amihere noticed her disfigured face from the pimple she tried to pop overnight.
"What happened to your face?" Amihere screamed as he gawked hard at her.
"My face? What's wrong with my face?" she said as she touched it. She could feel some pain she hadn't felt before. She rushed to the room to leer at it in the mirror. Amihere heard her scream.
"Whaaaaat!"
"Take it easy!" he called from his seat.
"First, I lose my friend and now this?" she said.
"Did your friend die?"
"Oh! No! I mean, he's...." she stopped short of telling him. She rather peered in his face as if he had coerced her to do something against her will.
"It's okay if you want to tell me. I'm all ears." Slumping in the sofa, and willingly,
she said: " He's catatonic," Amihere was not surprised yet acted so just to show his concern.
"I thought you were the one with the problem," he said.
"How did you get that impression? I hope you have not been stalking me again?"
"I'm afraid I did so," he said. "If this abnormal growth disfigures your face, I'll suggest a plastic surgery so you can regain your confidence."
"Is it a facelift or a plastic surgery?" she asked, trying to decipher between the two.
"It must be a plastic surgery rather, I think. What makes you ask about the difference?"
"They are two different things altogether," she replied. "I think it will make no difference, or will it?"
"What matters is that your face will be fixed in the end," he replied.
"That is a serious change I might have to consider carefully, Amihere. I can't just change my lifestyle because of this?" pointing at the spot where the swelling was.
"Do you want to keep your head up high?" he asked
"Yes I do."
"Then you had better consider it quickly so you don't become part of the statistics."
"I know!" she replied, sulking like a little child. "But I just can't change my face. Just listen to yourself and to me." Amihere held her shoulder softly and leered straight into her eyes.
"My family will not recognise me," she said. "Neither will Dome if he gets better." Amihere was impressed with her faith in the fact that her fiancé will get better.
"Where were they when you went through your crisis?" His words suddenly made sense to her. Turning towards him, she was eager to know which of the crises he was talking about.
"Thank you for that positive thought, Mamle? Is it your life you would want to get back or what your family would think about your decision?" he tilted his head a little bit so she could see his face. Realising she was surprised he knew more about her than she thought, he continued to rub it in. Does he really know what he's talking about? I never mentioned Dome, did I?
"You have been brave and faithful. Keep it up. What does your family think about his condition?"
"My family were supportive but you know they can't keep doing so forever?"
After deliberating on all the alternatives and dragging her feet appropriately to allow for errors and corrections in judgment like a dress rehearsal, Mamle was finally ready to undergo the surgery. The psychologists promised to be helpful in helping her find herself under such unforeseen circumstances. First of all, she wanted to know whether it was necessary, that there was no other alternative. Every fear she harboured would subside at the appearance of specialists, professionals who would leave no stone unturned in making sure Mamle lived a normal life once again.
Sitting in his parlour reluctantly, the look on her face told the whole story of her struggle to appear before the panel. Amihere could tell she had a hard time sleeping overnight.
"Are you ready?" he asked straightaway.
She only nodded and took a mirror out of her bag and sighed.
"Yes," she replied.
The psychologist asked her the reason why she wanted to do the surgery, whether she was ready to face the world with her new face and whether Dome would be okay with the change.
"Does your fiancé have any idea that you are going to do this?"
"No," she replied.
"You're going to have to let him know," said Doctor Asaase.
"But he doesn't even listen to me."
"He hears all you say but cannot respond." Telling Dome everything without any response was certainly going to be difficult. What went through his mind every day as he sat gawking?
Dome sat right in front of her. Was this the same person I used to laugh and joke about life with? Is this the same person who held me in his arms when I cried? Did he not tell me his utmost secrets? What happened? Now, I can't even hear his voice again.
"Hi Dome!" she said, expecting an answer. Mrs. Alovi, the nurse on duty urged her on with a nod.
"I also have a problem with my face that I would like to resolve with a plastic surgery. You may not recognise me afterwards so I wanted you to know."
"Okay," he said, responding and turning to her. "But make sure your feelings towards me do not change,
"Dome! You can speak!" she rushed to embrace him but as she did so, his eyes went back to its former statea. He was cold and unresponsive once again.
"Oh Dome! When will we ever have a lengthy conversation once again?" a tear fell from her cheek as Mrs. Alovi nodded in approval. It was good to let out her emotions. Now that she had fulfilled all obligations, she could get on with her life.
Amihere dressed up feverishly. The beauty he had found was about to begin life anew with his help. So proud of himself, he gawked at himself in the mirror, straightened his tie, and said "You're the man!" Walking with his hands intertwined in hers', they took calculated steps into the waiting SUV. Amihere liked to show off and had rented it for this particular purpose. As she goggled at him, surprised, he raised his eyebrows proudly, winking at her. Although she refused to acknowledge it, her fears had made her as mute as a fish. Seated comfortably in the back seat, Amihere rushed to the front side of the car and gave the driver orders to start the car and be the perfect chauffeur. Still looking at her face in the mirror, she hoped the surgeon would give her a nicer face than she had to compensate for her loss. From the side mirror, he ogled at her without her knowledge. Mamle was lost in her thoughts.
The journey had been long and exacting. Mamle was half-wet when the car stopped although the car was fully air-conditioned. Mamle waited for forever to alight. Amihere got down to help her.
"You're developing cold feet, I know, but I suggested this. If ever you want to change your mind, you can always do so." he said. Mamle ogled at him as he spoke the hard truth. Putting one foot down first, and holding on to the support in the car, she slowly edged her way down, her feet touching the ground slowly.
"Maaamle!" called Amihere softly, encouraging her to quicken her pace. The doctors would be waiting to receive her.
"Just give me some time," she said, knowing the reason for which he called.
"We're already here," he said. The look with which she gawked at him frightened him. It was as if she was saying that was the last time he was going to see her.
This is just a facial surgery not that of an internal organ for that matter. He thought and shook off the trepidation.
"We'll get through this, you'll see," he said, assuring her. Truly, the fright in her eyes subsided and sanity returned immediately to replace the fears and calm her troubled soul. Waiting in the outpatient's department, with her face in her hands and her head buried low in her laps, she wondered when it will all be over. Amihere was quick to notify the doctor upon arrival.
"Is she ready?" he asked him. This was the very question he was afraid to hear.
"I think so," he replied. "You might have to ascertain that yourself. She seemed a little hesitant when we got here."
"I will just ask her a few questions and that will be it," he said, assuring him. The doctor engaged her in the most unlikely conversation; about her childhood, her parents, where she grew up, who her favourite character in movies was and so on, then he began to speak about her beautiful face and how people would die to have it. As he went on and on, Mamle could not contain her worries any longer. He seemed to have been trying to encourage her to let out the steam.
"Will whatever I'm about to do affect me for the rest of my life?" she asked gently as if she knew his answer.
"It will," he replied. Why then would he have me go ahead with it? She thought.
"You have a lovely face," the doctor said to her. "I hope I give you something lovelier. Forgive me if I do far less than that." As he spoke, her mind wandered far off. The consequences of the decision imprisoned her thoughts. What if everything went bad and she came out with a scarred face uglier than ever? What if she was not able to adjust to the change this procedure was going to bring?
"I love the way you're so committed to helping her improve upon her life. What inspires you to do that? I don't know you to be such a person," the doctor said to Amihere in private. Although he did not respond directly to his question, he said in his mind: Perhaps, it could be love.
For no apparent reason, however, Mamle could not trust Doctor Fordjuor, although she had already signed the consent form. Howbeit, there was no turning back now.
"Will it hurt?" she asked him, very sullen, when it got to her turn and as the nurses helped her change into the apparel for patients who were to undergo surgery.
Does this woman still have questions after all we've been through? She must be really worried.
"No," he replied, snapping out of his soliloquy. "You'll be under the influence of anaesthesia and we'll be through with it in no time."
"What if I do not wake up?" she asked. That was when Doctor Fordjuor feared she might say something to disrupt the procedure. The doctor knew where she was going with these questions and gawked at her suspiciously. With a wry smile, she turned her eyes away from his gaze.
"Don't tell me you're trying to change your mind," he said. "But say it anyway. The ball is in your court."
"How long will it take to heal?" she asked.
"A few days or months," he said, gawking at her to be sure whether she was not going to change her mind soon.
"I hope I'll be able to recognise myself afterwards," she asked.
"You will," he assured her. "Why didn't you ask me all these questions early on? You sound like you might want to change your mind soon." Putting his stethoscope on the table and gave her all his ears, waiting for the bomb. "I hope you remember you have already signed the consent form. If, however, you feel that you would not want to go through with the surgery, just let me know so I can relieve you of this trauma."
"I want to go ahead with it," she replied. "I just wanted to be sure I was doing the right thing."
"Are you convinced now or I should call it a day?"
"No please," she replied. "Let's proceed."
"Perhaps you may need to talk to Amihere before we proceed," he asked. That seemed like a good idea though.
"If it will not be much of a bother, yes,"
"Ooooh…..Mamle…you disappoint me…." he said and picked up the phone on the internal communication network to call Amihere in. Amihere wasted no time in appearing before Doctor Fordjuor. Perhaps something had come up. Filled with trepidation, he breathed heavily.
"You cannot proceed with it?" he asked Doctor Fordjuor.
"Only if you help me out. She seems to be undecided."
"Mamle…do you want to proceed with the procedure or not?" Amihere asked her after the Doctor let him in to see her..
"I do want us to proceed with it," she replied. "I'm only trying to make sense of it all."
"I thought we went through this together?"
"There always are questions to be asked."
"So do we proceed or not?"
"Let's proceed," she replied.
"Okay,"
After several hours of surgery, Mamle appeared from the theatre with bandages on her face. Just as the doctor had said, it could take several days or months to heal. Peering at her face in a mirror, and wondering whether she would be able to lead a normal life again, she saw the doctor smiling right behind her.
"Oh! It's you, Doctor Fordjuor," she said. "Tell me you didn't see all I was doing?" The doctor kept smiling and said, "I hope I didn't startle you," avoiding her question. It was simply the beginning of a battle with her self-esteem.
"Not at all, doctor," she replied.
"You will have to take some rest for a few days as the wounds heal by themselves. Stay indoors until you are sure you are well acquainted with your new face and name," he said.
"Name? Oh no! I never thought of that," she replied. "If I were to be sent on a secret mission, what name would I possibly choose?" staring at the ceiling for answers, then turning suddenly to the doctor, she said; "What are you two turning me into? You can't imagine how I wish I wouldn't go outdoors ever again!"
"If it's going to be much of a problem, why not attend the pro surgery therapy sessions we have in this facility so you'll be able to handle life after surgery well?" asked Doctor Fordjuor.
"Let me think about it first," she replied.
"Alright then, the ball is in your court."