"I Wasn't Too Worried": What That One Line Means

His answer when asked about his impression on first arriving at the clinic.

I have always believed that a care space for men needs a different feel from an ordinary hospital. A space where you never instinctively hunch your shoulders wondering if someone is looking; a flow of care that keeps embarrassment to a minimum when you have to lift your shirt. Only when those details accumulate does a space emerge that patients describe as 'upscale.'

When asked about the most memorable moment during surgery, the answer he wrote struck me.

If the last sensation before the anesthesia took hold was 'the cold temperature of the operating table,' it means everything after that was time he never had to consciously endure. His back touched the table for a moment — and the next scene would have been the ceiling of the recovery room.

Asked about the first thing he wants to do after surgery, he wrote a single line.

If you have spent every year in clothing stores avoiding crew necks and slim fits, you know the weight of that line. Being able to step out under the May sun in nothing but a shirt. Confidence, in the end, begins with small everyday moments like these.