Doctor, Doctor

Doctor, Doctor
23rd April 2005

A few days ago, I had the chance to assist in my first surgery.

No, I haven’t left the advertising industry. And neither am I masquerading as a surgeon on the side – one cannot learn how by just watching Catch Me If You Can six times.

It seems Groper had corns. In her foot, I mean. Three of them – two big, ripe, infected ones, and one little baby corn. After bearing with the two big ones for 6 months, she’d finally come to her senses and asked Doc to operate.

So we figured out a schedule for surgery. And on the appointed day, Groper arrived, her friend Movie Man in tow.

She’d already ordered me to be there. Not out of any real love or affection, but because Groper has a huge phobia of injections. As we found out.

The surgery was to take place under local anaesthetic. Before starting, Doc decided to take Groper’s blood pressure. Sure enough, she started wailing the moment the pad clenched up around her arm. Low threshold of pain it seems.

The fun was, however, just beginning.

Doc, being Doc, was terrifying the life out of her (literally). Telling her that it was going to hurt like hell. Showing her the large syringes and needles he was going to use to inject the anaesthetic. Frightening the wits out of her by saying that either he was going to burn the corns out, or use a blade. And then, to top it off, he made her buy the blade!

We now have her lying on the operating table, and Doc is treating me like a compounder. Ordering me around to take her BP, get gauze, spirit and whatever else he needed.

In the meanwhile, Groper’s having second (and third, and fourth, and fifth...you get the picture) thoughts about surgery. All this while lying, foot draped in sterile surgical mat, on the cutting table.
So, hard-hearted Doc tells her, okay, don’t have it today. But you will sure as hell have to come back next week.

So she agrees.

But her foot doesn’t.

Doc tells her, loosen it. Keep it tight and it’ll hurt even more. She says, ok. But foot is tighter than Pamela Anderson’s training bra.

Movie Man is holding one hand, not saying much. Me, I’m holding her leg, caressing it. Other hand is on her stomach, telling her to breathe, that she’s no good to anyone if she’s not breathing. Kidding her about my abs being better. Telling her that payment would be to take her top off. Hearing her scream even louder at that prospect.

She started screaming even before Doc put in the injection. At that point she grabbed my hand in pain, eyes wide open, feral, twisted expression on her face. Then began the screaming, the tears.
So, to prevent the cops coming in, we locked both the clinic doors and told her to go ahead and scream.

Then Doc starts checking whether the injection’s worked. Lo and behold, Groper feels no pain.
(Note here that the only alcohol involved in the procedure was the spirit Doc used while cleaning up.)
Then he starts cutting away. All the while explaining to her exactly what is going on. Frightening her even more.

Let me interrupt here. I was really worried about Groper. She was born with a hole in the heart (though the more dangerous one is in the head), and was operated upon as a child. That’s why I asked Doc to go easy on her...and he did. Only, it didn’t seem like it to her.

He popped out the first corn, and she refused to look at it. Then started begging him to cut out the second without repeating the anaesthetic. Doc didn’t listen. He just waited till she said to finish it fast. Then he injected her, and the cutting began again.

At the end she was in tears. Both corns were out, but she was freaked out. Not by the operation – which was painless. But by the sight of the needles and the pain of the injections.

And cruel Doc, he proudly showed her all the needles before injecting.

Then Groper howled even more, when Doc told her he needed to give her a tetanus and a painkiller – two additional, separate injections. Both are especially necessary because of her heart. So I put my foot down.

Then I held her hand again.

Doc gave her the tetanus in the arm. Not much pain.

Then came the interesting part. Where he had to inject the painkiller in her...er...backside.

So, of course, I learnt a little bit more about Groper that day. That she was wearing striped underpants. No sexy, lacy, erotic lingerie – just functional undies.

Obviously that girl knows what she can and cannot pull off.

Then that shot went in, and we were done.

Doc had already dressed her foot. We then got her dressed up. Took her to my place so that she could pee. Then Movie Man dropped her home.

I’m glad I attended the surgery. It made me bless my decision to not even consider the possibility of the probability of the chance of getting into medicine.

Doc – well, he’ll be a good one some day. He was fast, clean, and just cruel enough to get the job done.

What about my future as a compounder? Good. If only I can distinguish between six-inch plaster and gauze, and stop handing the spirit bottle to the surgeon when he wants disinfectant.

Finally, what about Groper? Her left foot is doing well. Improving everyday. She’s on antibiotics, as well as painkillers. So she’s very drowsy. She has just one complaint, though.

Her throat aches from all the screaming.

So do my ears.