Two new hips and knees. A hair transplant. New skin. A bionic liver. A new kidney. My third heart.
I went through the list in my head.
Immortality came at a cost. There wasn’t much of my original body left, the one I was born with. But looked the same as I did when I was thirty and I had outlived them all.
Then they had found the inoperable tumour. There was only one option. They could do it. They could transfer all my memories and likes and dislikes and fears and experiences from one brain to the other.
My surgeon smiled down at me, ‘Any questions?’
I had one: ‘If you restore a ship by replacing each of its parts, does it remain the same ship?’
He kept smiling, ‘At least you would still have a ship that floats.’
Written for #FOWC, hosted by Fandango on his blog This, That and the Other. Today’s prompt word was: Paradox. Click on the link to read contributions from other writers.
Iain Kelly 
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