Naomi Mattingly conflicts the battle between life and death in this fictional hospital drama.

She is waiting for death.

All morning she has been waiting for it and now it is here.  It arrives in the form of a tall, balding hospital porter called Dave who helps her onto the grey metal trolley and covers her with a flimsy white sheet. 
“Off we go luv,” he says.  Death is a cockney.

They had told her to get there by eight am.   Eight am and the operation not until two!  Her husband wanted to stay with her all morning but she couldn’t stand it.  She couldn’t cope with him looking at her. His face worried, almost contorted.  She’d deal with it better if he just went. 

So, squeezing her hand gently, he left. 
“See you tonight,” he said. 
Would there be a tonight?

After his departure the dreadful monotony of endless hospital routine engulfs her.  The nurses ask her questions.  The junior doctors ask her questions.  The anesthetist more questions.  They all have lists: personal details, GP’s details, allergies, any dental crowns?  Endless questions cutting into her brain.

The routine is broken by the preparations for the arrival of a very important man.  The one who will open her up and try to take her pain away.  At midday the Hospital Consultant strolls majestically onto the ward surrounded by tousled-haired medical students looking up at him like he is a God,

To her, of course, he is a God.  He could give her life.  Or he could take it away.
The Consultant tries to reassure her about the outcome of the operation.  He tells her everything should be alright. 
‘Should’.
She smiles at him weakly as she fights to suppress the battle between hope and despair which slices its way through her head.  
She so wants to believe him. 

Now the time has come.  Dave chats cheerfully as he wheels her down the corridor to the operating room.  All her turmoil is crushed under the flimsy white sheet. Only one thought now pierces her mind.
Has execution of the death sentence begun?