26 Watching My Operation
Shortly after the operation began, I realized that by craning my neck upwards, I could watch my own operation.
The first thing my eyes were drawn to was the big gap in my leg just above the ankle. Then, squinting closer, I was greeted by my leg bone. An inch or so away was a slab of my flesh lying in the surgeon’s hand.
Meanwhile the nurses were squirting on this chunk of tissue a steady dose of brown liquid, which I assumed to be antiseptic, from plastic mustard-like-containers. The surgeon appeared to be rather routinely flipping this hamburger-looking substance around in his hands.
The next step was putting this hunk of flesh back into the cavity on my leg, after which they stitched it up with precisely sixteen stitches.
Now, usually I’m not much for blood and gore, nor do I enjoy hearing about people’s operations, but in this case I observed the procedure as long as I could, since I felt I had a quite a vested interest.
The first thing my eyes were drawn to was the big gap in my leg just above the ankle. Then, squinting closer, I was greeted by my leg bone. An inch or so away was a slab of my flesh lying in the surgeon’s hand.
Meanwhile the nurses were squirting on this chunk of tissue a steady dose of brown liquid, which I assumed to be antiseptic, from plastic mustard-like-containers. The surgeon appeared to be rather routinely flipping this hamburger-looking substance around in his hands.
The next step was putting this hunk of flesh back into the cavity on my leg, after which they stitched it up with precisely sixteen stitches.Now, usually I’m not much for blood and gore, nor do I enjoy hearing about people’s operations, but in this case I observed the procedure as long as I could, since I felt I had a quite a vested interest.
Labels: broken leg; operation; surgeon;
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