Just before the operation, the doctor leaned over me and said, "You have one more option." I was about to undergo surgery, but I still had options. The only thing that came to me is that they could cut off my arm. It turned out to be an injection in my arm which would reduce the post-op pain. I readily agreed.

They put the mask for the anesthesia over my mouth and nose, and, the next thing I knew, they were taking it off and I was feeling simply wonderful. "I love you all very much," I murmured as I swam back towards full consciousness.

[12/28] The pain didn't subside for a minute, in spite of whatever medication it was that I had been given (something slightly weaker than aspirin, I'm fairly sure). It was due to Carpal Tunnel Syndrome, so the doctor said he could give me some respite with an injection. First, however, a window would have to be cut in my cast, and he took a red marker to draw a crude square on the underside of my wrist.

I was then ushered into a room that seemed to be made completely of metal. A pretty, young nurse got out a circular saw with a blade with a radius of about three inches. When she noticed me cringing, she said there was no reason to worry because it wouldn't cut the skin. Also, it had a loud sound and might feel rather hot. (Why are all the administrators of torture disguised as pretty, young women?) She asked if it was the first time for me to experience this, and I replied affirmatively. I asked, "This isn't the first time you've done this, is it?" and she assured me it wasn't.

Copyright © 1998 by C.A. Edington

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