The surgeon’s plan

Chapter 1

I adjust the camera one last time, tuck my hair behind my ear, and sit down to begin. “Hi guys!” I say, putting on my best grin “It’s Jasmine back with another vlog, and boy do I have news for you today!”

My heart starts beating a little faster, knowing that was the easy bit done. “So, as all of you know, I started this channel when I was diagnosed with the HLD virus last year, and I’ve been documenting how it’s affected my life ever since.” Images of past vlogs would be edited in at this point, along with me in hospital beds giving a thumbs up to whoever was holding the camera. “The impact has been thankfully very slow, but I have had dark patches begin to appear on my skin, where my cells are beginning to break down, and it has held back my tennis training a little bit.”

I shuffle a bit in my chair, remembering how hard it’s been to push my body recently, knowing that the virus is literally making it rot away underneath me. “When I was diagnosed I was told that there was no cure, and it was only a matter of time before the virus spread to one of my vital organs.” I pause, enjoying being able to play a little with my viewers. “Well… we’ve found something!” I smile as best I can.

“My Dad’s been in touch with some Turkish doctor who says he’s worked out a way to slow the spread of the virus, long enough to make sure I’m still here when the government approves the drugs we need to fight it properly.” I laugh a little to try and relieve the tension. “I’m a tennis player not a doctor, so you’re gonna have to bear with me while I explain.” I put the fake laugh back on, “HLD works by causing human tissue to decay, and can infect all types of tissue.” I tuck my hair behind my ear again. “It does however, have a preference…”

“HLD is especially attracted to fat cells, which is why I lost weight so quickly when I first got infected.” Dropping 20 lbs in a month with no dieting seemed like a dream come true at the time, how naive I was… “This means that my model body probably isn’t the best to fight it!” I laugh at my own joke, and stand up to show off my long brown hair, and petite figure to the camera. “The doctor says that…” I begin as I sit down again, “the virus will stay in fat deposits as long as they are large enough, meaning the rest of my body will be fine, as long as I’m chubby enough.”

I don’t quite manage the forced laugh this time as I continue, “HLD burns through fat so quickly that stuffing my face isn’t going to do any good, which is why I need to have some fat injection surgeries…” I stand up again, and lift up my top “here,” I point to the top of my abdominal muscles, just under my painfully visible ribs, “here,” I point to the bottom of my spine, “on both thighs” I point just below the bottom of my skirt at my stick like legs, “and into my breasts” at least that’s a plus, I think to myself “and face!”

I take a few deep breaths, and sit down again. “So! I have more hope of a recovery now than I have had for a very long time, but, I may be looking a little different quite soon!” I feel a hotness forming behind my eyes, and an ache at the back of my throat. “So this is Jasmine, signing off for now!” I reach over to turn the camera off, and finally get a chance to relax.

I walk to the window, my Dad’s words from earlier echoing around my head. A part of me is thrilled, I had ignored the virus for a while, hoping that it would be slow enough to allow me a reasonably long life, or at least a few years, but the last few weeks had seen me getting thinner, tireder, and increasingly pained. This was hope though, the hope that I, and all my other sufferers had been hoping for.

Yet the doubt nagging away at the back of my mind wouldn’t leave me alone. ‘Who’s ever met a Turkish doctor who’s actually legit?’ I thought to myself, ‘and why do I have to ruin my body in the process?’ I decided I had no choice, and if the virus worked as quickly as it did at the start, then I wouldn’t be fat for too long.

I glanced worriedly over at one of my old tennis trophies, and sat down at my desk to draw up a packing list.