By the time this is published,
the operation will be over.
Seen that way,
it feels a little like
a letter to my future self.
When I was in elementary school,
we were asked to write a message
to ourselves twenty years ahead.
“Hey, me twenty years from now.
No reply?
Are you dead?”
My friends laughed.
Perhaps it was not that I couldn’t imagine the future,
but that its meaninglessness came first.
Now, here I am.
I am not worried about the operation failing,
but I know the possibility is not zero.
The risks of complications
have been explained to me,
again and again.
Most of the time it goes well,
but you never know until you do it.
What is different now, compared to then?
There were nights
when I wanted to die.
Now it is different.
Death does not exist.
That is the sense
I am left with.
So there is nothing to worry about.
That is all.
Still,
there may be pain after the operation,
and the limits of the body
may be made clear again.
Even so,
it is fine.