Cardiac Arrest Me Please.

[1m_b_w_zombies]

Ah, to be a young surgeon of a semi-prestigious medical school and to be immediately thrust into this...To be staring down at a human being at their "make-it or break-it" point and know that it's up to you and not them. To be young enough to relate the music video of "Title and Registration" to my concurrent situation. It honestly terrifies me to think that my naivete, and thought process might be detrimental to the success of such a weighted situation as this. It's delicate. It's vicious. I'm about to slice open a chest cavity, and I have to be careful...what the fuck is going on in the world, where a young man like me...a man who use to suffer from clammy hands until I gave up drinking coffee in my first post-graduate year, is given the task to save the life of a complete stranger. At any rate who do I blame that I'm grasping the new heart in my right hand and the suture in my left before I've even grabbed the scalpel and forceps...They're on plain sight on the instrument tray beside me but as crazy and impossible as it sounds I feel I almost don't need them...now. I know up to this point surrealism doesn't exactly chime with what I've relayed to you...but I swear on my mother's to-be-grave that the heart in my right hand started prematurely beating. I haven't hooked up a single tricuspid...not a single pulmonic...there haven't been any mitral valves hooked up and I sure as hell haven't attached any aortic valves today...yet it beats in 4/4 time. I look up to my team of doctors for one second to see if they can see it too or if I'm hallucinating, and they're nowhere to be seen. I affix my gaze again to the table where I see a huge scar over the heart of the patient coming to, and as I get up off the table and look at the surgeon I say "So...sew me up?" The doctor looks back, smiles and replies, "Why... yes you did".

Honestly,
Paisley.