Victim of Grace

“I never heard this before! I can’t believe it. Why would anyone do that to you?”
I tried to keep my expression steady as I gave her the bigger picture of the traumatic experience. “The building I walked into was a hospital. Providence Medical Center, to be exact. The man who rendered me unconscious was an anesthesiologist.”
“What?”
“The masked man with the knife was a surgeon. He removed several diseased masses and repaired my bile duct. I have a nine-inch scar right here.” I traced a diagonal line across my torso. “And another six-inch scar here.”
Steph narrowed her eyes. She looked like she might throw something at me. “Why didn’t you just say you had your gallbladder removed?”
I laughed. “Because the experience sounds so different when you don’t know the final outcome ahead of time. That’s what you’re going through right now; lots of painful steps without knowing the final punch line. When I only told you the painful facts of my experience, it seemed as though I were a victim of an act of violence.”
“It certainly did. B