Daniel remained silent.
“I think sometimes I’ve confused love with the obligation not to disappoint him,” I added.
The next day I was operated on.
The intervention took several hours. Surgeons removed the formation, which had reached impressive dimensions.
When I woke up in intensive care, the first face I saw was Daniel’s.
“Mom, the surgery is over. Doctors say you’ve been through it well.
I tried to smile.
And the belly?
It’s not like it anymore.
He laughed slightly, but his eyes were red.
The result of the pathological examination came a few days later.
The formation was benign.
When the doctor told us the news, Daniel covered his face with his palms.
I hadn’t seen him cry like that since his father’s funeral.
The recovery was slow. I needed help to walk, for dressing and for activities that I used to do alone.
