At his head stands doctor Roldoge', his mouth now covered by the same type of cloth mask. The white hair of the elder doctor looms like a crown of omniscient wisdom, even to the newly born child as he lay, continuing to gaze upward into the faces of those standing all around him. The two much younger men and the two women of the same age, appear humbly subservient to the elder doctor, Roldoge'.
"Now ladies and gentlemen, we have much to accomplish here. All of you are to follow my exact commands, and nothing less. This operation is a complicated procedure. While not being life threatening, as far as this child's physical life is concerned; the outcome of this operation may in fact be considered life threatening, concerning the overall quality level of the child's future life. In other words, here, ladies and gentlemen, there lies no margin for era, and consequently, no excuse on any of our parts, should era occur. Do I make myself perfectly clear on this matter?"
"Yes doctor," reply both ladies as they continue smiling down upon the child. "This child sure is adorable," they both warmly announce.
The faces of both ladies' seemingly light up when the child smiles following their statement.
"Yes doctor," say both of the men. "We both hear and comprehend, loud and clear," they speak in meek humble unison.
"Very well," the doctor says in direct reply, as he turns toward the stainless sink to wash both hands, "let us be on with it."
The doctor reaches down with his right hand, pulling away the blanket and gown of the child, exposing his entire body to the coolness of the operating room. His rough, heavy right hand seized the left leg of the child. The child feels the doctor's right index finger move across the top of his foot, from side to side, and around the back side of his ankle from the heel, upward, as he speaks to the four who were present in the room with him.
As the elder doctor speaks words the child fails to comprehend, the child turns his head to the right side, beholding an assortment of metal tools laid out on a somewhat small wooden table. Some of these tools have saw blades, others have drill points, even more appear as wicked pliers of some sort. The sight of these instruments gives the young child a heavy negative feeling in the pit of his stomach. He knows almost instinctively somehow that these evil appearing devices are meant for use on him. The child begins crying as this possibility is silently pondered.
"Notice the Anterior Tibial here," speaks the doctor as he rubs his index finger across the top of the child's right foot from side to side. "We must make an incision along this line," he says as a cold, sharp felt tipped marker runs across the top of the child's foot. The child feels this sensation on the other foot afterward, while the doctor continues speaking in this chatter he somehow fails to comprehend.
"This situation also demands that we make an incision along the Peroneal Tibial," he continues, as he runs his index finger along from the side of the heel, upward along the rear of the child's ankle, and lower shin. The sensation tickles, causing the child to jerk his foot backward, but this cold tickle is almost its own sensation of pain at the same time. The child begins to cry again.
"Today this task will consist of our duties for this operating period, but by no means will it be the last. This child will be compelled to endure at least four more servings of the same. The Posterior Tibial will need lengthening at a later date, as will all of the Extensors. For this child to walk properly, the situation shall require that the Flexors be lengthened in addition. To manage this process of lengthening will demand that these tendons be split, then one half slid upward against the other. Sutures on either end will serve to prevent slippage, until the healing process can take charge. Do all of you understand what is about to occur here in these proceedings?"
"Yes doctor, your wishes are our commands," the four speak in humble submissive unison.
"Very well," replies the doctor, "allow the procedures described to commence. Jason, please step outside the door and signal the anesthesiologist. When the anesthesiologist arrives, we will commence with our usual prayer for divine guidance, then allow this labor of love to proceed."
"Yes doctor, I am on my way," Jason replies, as his gaunt figure wearing a mask turns and walks. His brown eyes appear bead-like as they beam from above the whiteness of the mask looming from a somewhat swarthy face. To the child, Jason's mannerisms appear to reveal the presence of a concealed secret. The doctor glances in Jason's direction with a hard glare of inquisitive perception, revealing to the child that his thoughts are potentially the same.
"Is everything clear? Do you understand your duties, your stations, and the task assignment at hand?" inquires the elderly, much more experienced doctor.
"Yes doctor, all is perfectly clear," replies the staff surrounding the child's small bed.
The child begins crying as the anesthesiologist somewhat hurriedly enters the operating chamber. The anesthesiologist is a mid-sized middle-aged man, with what appears to be long brown hair wrapped up in a tight hair net. In his right hand he carries a silver tank. In his left hand he carries a hand sized rubber mask, with a rubber hose connected to the mask. The doctor continues speaking to the four assistants as the anesthesiologist leans toward the face of the child. He smiles as he speaks quietly.
"All right, little one, all is going to be well," he warmly whispers. "You have nothing to fear. I am going to cover your face with this mask, and you will shut your eyes. When you open them, you will be back in the room with your parents and grandparents. Will that not be nice.? So here we go now," he speaks as he places the mask over the face of the child.
When the child opens his eyes, he glances around. He can sense that an enduring span of time has passed, but he knows not how much. Contrary to the words of the anesthesiologist, he is not back in the room with his parents and grandparents, he is still there inside this operating room! The doctor and his assistants are away from the table on the other side of the room, toward the foot of the table where the child lay.
He is no longer covered by a gown or blanket, but lies completely naked, and totally exposed to the ice-cold air of the operating chamber. He glances down to witness where the flesh of his feet has been peeled away, exposing a redness of the muscle, with an occasional glint of pallid coloring from the bones of his own feet. Dark colored thin wires on a rack above his feet connect to the bones of both feet. Solidly anchored straps hold his legs and feet firmly to the table. The pain inside his feet abruptly migrates upward from the horrid sight before him. He begins crying loudly as his body is overcome by this horrible excruciating sensation.
"Oh, my gosh!" screams one of the nurses as she races over toward the child's table-side, "he came to!"
"How did that ever happen?" screams the other nurse, as herself and the other two move toward the operating table where the crying child lay.
"I am sure such a thing has never happened before," replies one of the male assistants present, the child recognizes to be Jason, as he commences rushing about in a haphazard, uncoordinated fashion. "What must we do?"
"Grab that mask, Jason, and give him another quick jolt of chloroform, while I step outside and fetch the anesthesiologist," replies Doctor Roldoge'. "It's not that great of a catastrophe when such situations occur," the doctor calmly speaks as he heads toward the door. "These things sometimes materialize. We are only required by circumstance to take command when they do."
Jason seizes the mask, placing it directly and firmly across the face of the child. He turns a metal knob on the right-hand side of the mask, releasing a wisp of what feels like heavy, slightly warm air to the child. The air hisses as it blows across the child's face. Soon he imagines he is back inside the room with his parents and grandparents, as the operating room with its cold temperature, uncomfortable surroundings, and its rather ghastly metal gadgets with motors and terrible blades on them, simply vanish from sight before him.