Joe watched closely as they got to work in earnest.
He was so glad that she was at peace while the operation continued. Turned out it was pretty complicated. Not with difficulties per se but it was detailed, intricate work requiring patience and skill, and absolutely no movement from their patient.
For the next five hours the medical team worked with a practiced synchronization, deft hands and clear instructions.
Cancerous tissue was removed, additional cells taken to be sure.
Margins checked. More tissue taken. Results awaited.
Repeat.
Repeat.
Repeat.
This continued in a cycle until they were content. Checked again. Made absolutely sure. Until, finally, as the afternoon turned to evening and now fully satisfied, the doctors finished their work and Joe watched as the nurse placed sterile dressings on the open wounds.
He asked questions.
Listened intently to the instructions.
Asked for it to be written down for fear he'd forget a step, make a mistake, delay Jill's healing in any way.
'Risk of infection is the most important thing to watch out for sir. Any redness, hotness, puckering of any wound don't take a chance, let Dr. O'Connor know immediately', Nurse Kelly advised. 'Don't let the dressings get wet, no baths for a few days, definitely no showers'.
He noted that one in particular. He would be firm if needed. 'Make sure you write that down please', he requested, 'in case I need to blame you, deflect from me', he said with a grin. 'My wife loves to soak in the bath', he explained, noting the nurse's frown of curiosity.
She laughed. 'Good tactic!' she joked. The president was so easy to chat with that she felt like she was talking to an old friend. Had to keep reminding herself of his position.
She thought again, of the intensity of the First Couples lives, of the scrutiny within which they lived, the bubble of non stop intrusion.
'Look, if you're happy with the way the wounds are healing, if there's no soreness or excessive redness, then maybe by Saturday a bath will be fine ok', she clarified. 'But do make sure to keep the dressings dry. Right?'
'You're the boss', he replied, 'I'll do whatever you tell me, even if it gets me in trouble', he said with a glint in his eye.
'Anything in particular to watch with her face, her eyes?' he asked.
'The swelling will go down over the next few days, it'll probably peak on Friday. She will likely bruise a lot, especially over her eyelid, that's a really delicate spot, no tissue or fat underneath to take the impact of all the probing so that bruising will come out', she hesitated and he noticed.
'What?' he asked.
'Well sir, I don't know what your plan is for going home but ... well, to be frank, she's going to look like someone beat her up, you may not want photos of that circulating'. He placed his hand on her shoulder, immediately understanding her warning. 'Thank you. I really appreciate that', he told her.
He thought for a moment, racking his brain, knowing he was forgetting something. 'Makeup!' he exclaimed. 'When can she wear makeup?'
'By the weekend perhaps, I'd say by Monday it'll probably be ok. The problem will be in removing it, the new skin will be very delicate so she'll have to be careful not to rub. I wouldn't put anything on that eyelid for longer than that though', she warned. 'Ok', he answered, patting his pocket.
