“My doctor fucked up my operation and left me disfigured.” “Disfigured?” Dr. Xavier said. “According to who?” If life is theater, I was sitting front row. “To me,” Mom said. “I mean, look at me.” “I am,” he said, offering his sharp-toothed smile. “Look at me.” “Yeah. But you choose to look that way.” “Sure, but did you choose to look the way you did before?”
