I decided to have it removed, electively. That meant insurance wouldn't cover it. But considering the long-term gain I hoped it would bring to me and my ultimate sense of well being, I thought the high price negligible.
(more) The procedure, while not exactly routine, had been performed "hundreds of times in Europe to great success", and reasoned that if the best surgeons in Switzerland had given their tacit endorsement, who was I to disagree? I wasn't red-eyeing it to some skeevy clinic in Puerta Vallarta. AirFrance to Bern, plus procedure, plus ten days recovery in the shadow of the Alps, plus return. $80,000. I had saved and would pay cash in full upon discharge, in and out, sleek and Euro-style.
The benefit would be total. I would awake in the recovery room, as the saying old as medicine goes, a new man. In researching the operation, the clinic had provided me with the e-mail of a "happy" client and we exchanged messages. The guy lived in Denver and was an account manager for a big investment firm. Rhymes with Oldman-Stacks.
"The second-best thing I ever did." His e-mail went, "Next to leaving my wife, of course." Before or after, I wondered. He went on to mention that he attributed all of his latest professional and financial successes to having the procedure done. I found him persuasive.
"Where do you keep it?" I wrote.
"I let them keep it. I guess it got incinerated with all the other bio-waste that day."
In an antique shop I had found a Victorian-era decanter to display mine in. There it would sit, a conversation piece on top of the liquor cabinet.
"Guys?" I'd say to guests, "Want to see my soul? I had it removed."
the darkness wrapped around him like a blanket, warm and comforting. it was becoming harder and harder to keep his eyes open. he wanted so much to lean into the darkness, let it envelop him, take away all of his worries. how easy it would be just to give(more) in, to let it take control. but...
sora. he had to fight for sora. the knucklehead wouldn't get far at all without him. he was quick on his feet and could hold himself in battle, but he wasn't terribly bright.
though, what would sora think of him now? maybe kairi would be better suited to help him keep his head out of the clouds. after all, riku had tried to kill him. no, sora wouldn't want him around after all that.
without a word, he hugged his arms around himself and let the darkness fall over him.