Tears that generate flowers ...

This is a true account, which occurred in my office 15 years ago. Names are obviously substituted for identity protection.

It was an ordinary afternoon, an agenda with few patients, when a middle-aged couple entered, clear, and a little black girl playing with a flower.

The patient's name was Celina, married, 55, entered my room accompanied by her sister, while her husband stayed at the reception with the child, Fábia.

Fábia was a black child, very smiling, active and affectionate with everyone. I thought for a moment, you must be a foster daughter.

Celina was referred by a mastologist because she had had breast cancer, had been operated on 24 months earlier, and now went to ask for an evaluation for a possible reconstruction. One of the appointments passed by default, until Celina told me that six months before the tumor appeared and grew very fast, she had checked into a renowned laboratory in the city. And at that moment the sister began to cry.

I said, asking if everything was all right. Then Celina intervened and spoke - Dra, on the day of the checkup, my husband was going to take me, but I was tired and asked our son Fabio to take me. I took the exams and we had a lightning kidnapping. They rode in the city for hours with us, took what they could of money, my son and I stayed in the back seat and then decided to leave us on a road. They asked for his pochet, and he just said "leave my passport because ..." and they shot a bullet in his forehead, it was my only son, he was 18 years old, happy because he had received his passport, he was going to study abroad . He was born prematurely, and my sister and I had a carriage to breastfeed him; That's why she gets excited.

My husband, an industrialist, could not stand it. He went into depression, because he thought he should have died and not our memo. No longer was the factory, many friends helped, so we did not break. I also refused to rebuild the breast immediately, because nothing else made much sense to me.

I no longer knew whether I was crying, comforting my companion or continuing. It was hard not to be compassionate with those women. I took a deep breath and said, but what about the check-up exams? Ah, Celina answered, then they went to get the mastiologist's request, they dated less than 6 months, all normal, including the extended digital mammography. I asked you some case of breast cancer in the family? Answer- not that we know. So it was obvious the emotional component in the trigger to trigger the disease and so aggressively.

I said, good Celina and how you feel now, that is, I understand your pain, but how do you feel about a surgery that is medium to large in your case. The indicated method involved a muscular-cutaneous flap of the rectus abdominis, with some complexity, and the finishing in the abdomen as of an abdominal aesthetic plastic at the same time. He replied, if Dr. thinks I can do it, I would like it very much. My soul was shaken, how much pain, such loss, so little time, that strength to live!

I asked for the exams and I said: upon your return, after talking to your mastologist and seeing your exams, I will explain the surgery better and plan the date. At this moment, the little girl opens the door to the consulting room and shouts, "Mom this flower is you", smiles, and the aunt spoke, Fábia is ours, is the daughter of Celina.

I said, how good she made the decision to adopt a child. Then Celina smiled and said, I did not take no dra. I asked not? No, she replied. He said-after a few weeks I had operated, one day he rang the bell of my house and I went to pick it up myself. Then a small girl, with a little child on her lap, said; Look, this girl belongs to your son, but even he did not know it, I can not create it and I know what happened to Fabio, so I decided it's yours. Handed me in my arms and said I will not come back, I brought a part of Fábio to you ... And the girl passed the flower on Celina's face and spoke - Mom. DNA was made. The medical position was over, I burst into tears. I think it was one of the days that I saw the hand of God explicitly.

It's part of my story too.

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