The Procedure
"Are you ready to get started, Mowgli?"
I was naked, I was exposed, and most importantly, I felt terrible. How much more ready could I be? I nodded.
"Good. Let's begin." Dr. Gutierrez cut into my chest and pulled my ribcage open. "Ah... let's see what we have here."
Now I felt exposed.
Dr. Gutierrez prodded around for a few minutes while I sat in my chair trying not to look into the bright light. From what I'd heard, Ben Gutierrez was the one most qualified to operate. By the time I'd finally gone to him, I didn't care who did it, just as long as it got done.
"Well, the first thing I see here is these two things." He pulled a mirror over so I could see what he was pointing to. "On this side, you have this urge to be an artist, a musician, a writer. Yet over here there's the desire to live comfortably. You want to have a family and provide for them well. You realize that these two things are at odd, don't you?" I nodded. An image flashed across me that the doctor must've noticed. "Da Vinci?" He shrugged. We both knew I wasn't a genius. "Take your pick. Both of them have found their way into you pretty deeply, but I'll be able to remove most of either one."
He must've seen my choice, because I heard the the scissors snipping away, and with it went my artistic drives.
"Okay, what do we have here? You're lonely. You want people to like you. But I'm seeing all these quirks, obsessions, neuroses, et cetera. Let's work on this."
I didn't give my consent to it, but I didn't have to. I wouldn't have stopped him.
Snip. Snip, snip.
"You always carry a book around?" Snip.
"You should use utensils more often." Snip.
"What are these aversions to MTV and ESPN?" Snip, snip.
"Far too quiet in social situations." Snip.
Snip. Snip, snip, snip.
He stopped for a minute and stared into me with a frown on his face. Another minute passed. "I think that helped, but there's still some conflicting traits in here." I'll take something else out. It will take a little longer this time.
As he proceeded to cut away, I thought more about my loneliness. I needed to feel loved, to feel wanted. I needed affection returned. At least, I thought I did. Then again, why did I need others around me, sucking up all my time? I had better things to do with my time.
Oh, that's what he was cutting away.
After another hour or so, the doctor sewed up my chest. "How're feeling?" I smiled. Well, maybe I didn't. But I didn't frown.