Doctor, is this going to hurt?

I was born with a mild deformity in my hands—my left is far larger than my right. <br><br>The good news is that the deformity doesn’t really affect my day-to-day. The bad news is that it makes me feel like a freak. I used to be self conscious. <br><br>Luckily for me, I met a wonderful doctor. <br><br>The first time we met, he made a big show of how my sizeable hands wouldn’t fit through the arm holes in the hospital gowns. He used a scissors to cut away the seams, giving me my first taste of freedom from the stares and awkward questions that had followed me throughout my life. They still stare and they still ask me questions, but now I have someone to go to. Someone who doesn’t mind looking at me, hands and all. <br><br>Doctor and I are close. I’m not sure if it’s appropriate, or if he’s crossed a line. All I know is when I’m in his surgery, all my worries disappear. <br><br>I’d been regularly visiting him since I was a kid—mandatory checkups to keep an eye on my hands. He’d measure them, poke them, and occasionally give me pain meds. It wasn’t so bad. <br><br>When I turned 19, he began acting differently towards me. There was something in the way he looked at me and the way he spoke to me. Warmer. Gentler. Like I was one of his own. We talked about my school, my friends, and my family. He told me about his wife and kids. And his colleagues—mostly the ones who were mean to me. <br><br>His colleagues didn’t like me. They had never liked me. They’d make faces when I walked through the waiting room, their eyes darting to my hands as they whispered to each other. But Doctor wasn’t like that. He treated me with respect, like I was one of his own patients and not some freak of nature. <br><br>I couldn’t complain too much. They paid for my treatments. They treated me like a person. And Doctor was always there to help me. <br><br>So when he came to me with his new ideas, I was hesitant at first. I knew it wasn’t standard procedure—I could Google that much—but I also trusted him. Implicitly, at this point. <br><br>“Don’t you ever wish you could be like everyone else?” he asked me once, his eyes trembling with a sincerity that made my heart flutter. <br><br>“Of course,” I said, and he smiled. <br><br>“You’d be beautiful,” he said. <br><br>I blushed, not used to men saying such things to me. He placed a hand on my shoulder and then stood up so I could change out of the hospital gown. <br><br>After that day, Doctor started bringing me new procedures. He’d say things like, ‘this is experimental’, but also ‘the other doctors will be jealous when they see you change’. Sometimes, he’d come to me with strange devices. Sometimes, he’d come alone. <br><br>He warned me that some of it would hurt. That these changes were necessary for my growth. I’ve learned to live with pain. <br><br>Doctor is very persuasive. <br><br>I’d do anything for him. <br><br>He’s helped me so much already. <br><br>I trust him completely.