- Nunca pasó esto en mi consultorio – gritaba él mientras llamaba a las enfermeras.
Violeta miraba tranquila el espectáculo. Ella le había avisado que era una princesa.
Humour in the Blood
Violeta is a princess, she has royal blood, the blood of a haemophiliac. When she went to his surgery, she took care to explain to him that they could not cut her body without taking precautions. He was more worried about the urgency of the biopsy than about the blood. The power of the doctor over the patient was so great that Violeta could not put up any resistance to his examining her on the couch or to his taking a tissue sample from her body. Blood flowed, fell in cataracts, as if in revenge for his not having listened to Violeta. He placed a hospital bowl under it, one of the old type, metal, enamelled white. Violeta still remembers the sound the blood made as it fell into the bowl and how the red fluid marked the doctor's white coat. He so painstaking, with his well-tied tie and his face of an angel. Violet marked the doctor's coat, his fine shoes, his surgical gloves, his face.
"This didn't happen in my surgery," he shouted while calling for the nurses.
Violeta watched the spectacle quietly. She had warned that she was a princess.