I have a couple of really detailed surgical fantasies, my favorite of which is being fully aware but paralyzed during open abdominal aortic aneurysm repair surgery. It's a surgery that requires an incision from the center of the rib cage down the middle of the abdomen, around the belly button, and to the pubic bone. Both catheterization and a ventilator are required and it can take up to seven hours.
In my fantasy, I become aware just after the vent is inserted. When I "wake," I feel one nurse sanitizing my abdomen and another cleansing my penis to insert the catheter. I'm a little dazed, some of the meds seem to be working, but reality sinks in when I feel the needle shoved up my urethra and the tube being slowly, agonizingly inserted. I try to scream, try to move any part of my body to tell them I'm feeling everything, but I can't even twitch an eye because they're taped shut and the paralyzing agents are the only part of the anesthesia that seem to be working.
The waiting is the hardest. I've been informed about what's going to happen during surgery, of course, and I know the incision is inevitable. The burning of the catheter and the pain in my throat from the vent are just the preamble to what's to come.
And come it does, and pretty unexpectedly because I can't see anything at all. The surgeon makes a deep cut right between my ribs and it's the worst pain I could ever imagine. Unaware, he drags the scalpel down my belly, around my belly button, and all the way down. In my mind I'm screaming and some part of my brain wonders how my vital signs aren't telling them something is wrong. Then he comes back for the second pass and I feel my skin spreading wider. I smell something burning and realize it's me, the assistant cauterizing my nerves. The third pass splits me open entirely and, while I'm in unimaginable pain, I can only focus on the fact that my guts are literally exposed to the open air.
Then comes the spreader, the metal claws that attach to the sides of my flesh to keep me open. I feel hands inside me and things straining and suddenly I realize they're taking out my internal organs and casually laying them over the sides. It seems to take forever to get them all out and I'm not sure how I'm still alive. I don't want to be; no human should have to feel themselves being knifed open, split wide, and dissected.
I feel the first internal incision, one long deep cut into the artery. The pain blends into all the others and some part of my brain must be protecting me because, while I feel every other incision after, the insertion and testing of the tube, and the suturing of that wound, I'm not really able to focus on anything until they're shoving my organs back inside. Hard, and seemingly without care as to position. They keep hitting that internal incision and each time I feel like I have to die because I simply can't take anymore. Finally, they seem to have me properly stuffed and I feel them remove the spreader. For some reason that hurts almost as much applying it did. I feel my eyes rolling back and my body start to sieze, jostling my open organs and that internal incision again. Finally, it seems, they've realized I've been lying here suffering for 6 hours, open and totally aware of every cut and stretch and pull, and I feel a needle in my arm. The world slowly starts to fade and I've never been so grateful in my life.
The respite doesn't last long. I become aware again after they've stitched me up and are cleaning the skin around the incision. After a few minutes of that, I feel arms under mine and I'm being lifted from the table. I can feel all the recently attacked organs and that damn internal incision being jostled and it's the worst when they finally drop me on the gurney. Or, I think that's the worst. Even more agonizing is when they start to roll it and each little bump sends a shooting pain through my stomach. I can feel another seizure starting and hear yelling around me and I know no more.
Yup, way extreme and would never want to go through it in real life. But, there it is.
#Surgical_Fetish