Under the Knife

"I'll go under the knife." Delia announced, getting a nod from the receptionist. "I'm guessing you can put me in right now?"

The receptionist nodded, leading the former mother through the door and into the hallway of the hospital. What followed, was the woman leading Delia into a small room. A bright white square, there wasn't anything interesting here. Outside of all the medical equipment.

"Wait here." the woman ordered, watching Delia take a seat. The door closed right after. More waiting. Of course, there's no clock in the room. So the former mother has no concrete way of knowing how long

"Ms Ketchum?"

The surgeon walked in, Delia letting out a sigh of relief. She had not been forgotten. Be awful if they somehow had. Though, that was a sueable issue.

"Yes?" Delia remarked, watching the surgeon take a seat.

"What sort of adjustments do you wish to be made?"