Steel glints above me. Butterflies backflip chaotically in the pit of my stomach. This was it! _Possibly_ the last day, last person, last sight I’d ever see on this earth. Wriggling slightly in a futile attempt to find a comfortable position, the crisp cotton gown bunches up underneath me. Hunger pangs gnaw irritatingly amongst the cavorting butterflies. Without a moment’s thought, I relegate them to the bottom of my heap of worries.

A squeak of rubber-soled expensive leather shoes rends the silence. Frigid air combines with the sharp tang of alcohol to assault my nostrils. _Deep breaths! Panic doesn’t help, _I silently chide myself. Gazing helplessly up into the masked face, brilliant blue eyes calmly meet mine. I’m fresh out of options. No way out. Eyebrow quirks.

“I trust you,” I rasp out through my sandpaper dry throat. With a solemn nod, he points the lethal knife at my throat. That final, frightening image is indelibly imprinted on my retina… the slim, shiny scalpel blade on collision course with my exposed throat. Total vulnerability…

One swift eye blink later… those same sea blue eyes smile reassuringly down into the line of my blurry vision.

“All done! We got it all.”

Relief courses through my groggy mind. I _knew_ he could do it! I’m so glad to be back ‘from the dead’… or my version of it. “Goodbye and good riddance” to my cancerous thyroid gland. Gratefully, I anticipate the next exciting stage of my life. I quietly give thanks to God and the highly skilled surgeon he sent to save me. My trust was well placed!