Prisoner in Time (Time travel) (47 page)

As the light of day began to fall, lanterns were set up to aid in surgery. With barely a moment to take a break, the men operated well into the evening. By nine o’clock, the three felt exhausted. After hours of exposure to blood, it had soaked into their skin, wrinkling their fingers and making the instruments hard to grasp.

Looking over to Doc, David said, “I don’t know about you, but I’m about done. The scalpels keep slipping through my fingers.”

Doc smiled in relief.

“I’m glad you said so Lad. I was trying to hold on as long as you, but I’m afraid I wouldn’t have lasted much longer.”

“You should have said something sooner. I was just trying to keep up with you,” David said with a laugh.

“I’d be asleep hours ago if it wasn’t for my growling stomach waking me up,” Geoff added.

“I believe our decision is unanimous then. Shall we relax by the fire?” Doc said, slipping off his bloody smock.

“If we had one to sit by,” Geoff shot back, sarcastically.

“I’m certain there’s one we can commandeer,” David said with a cryptic smile.

“Being a general does afford one certain privileges, doesn’t it?” Doc retorted.

An hour later, the three men sat by a roaring fire and dined on boiled vegetables and beef. Barely waiting for their soup to cool, each wolfed down the contents of their tin. Shortly thereafter, the three stretched out on the hard ground and sipped their coffee.

“That was the longest day of my life,” Geoff said with a yawn.

“Sure beats getting shot at though,” David responded.

“Or worse,” Doc chimed in.

“What time tomorrow do we start again?” Geoff asked.

“There’s no stopping Lad. We’ll be working through the night,” Doc responded instantly.

“No way! I’m freaking tired,” he retorted in disbelief.

“I’m sorry for that Lad, but there
are
others far worse off that will die tonight unless we continue.”

“That sucks,” Geoff responded coldly. “Isn’t there someone that can fill in for us so we can get some rest?”

“I’m afraid Geoffrey, that anyone that could be filling in for us is already doing so. If you listen closely, you’ll hear the moans from the wounded men. As surgeons, those moans haunt us, calling upon us to save them. Not a single surgeon in this unit denies their requests. Those poor men that suffer in agony have paid a horrific price for my freedom. I believe I can suffer through a little discomfort to save them.”

Geoff sat quietly replaying Doc’s words over and over in his mind. He recalled his own cold words and he felt ashamed. Looking across the fire, David watched Geoff’s expressions move through a range of emotions. Moments later, the teens face carried the look of guilt.

“Lad, I can see you’re tormented by our exchange. Feel shame only if the lesson goes unlearned,” Doc said in a respectful tone.

Geoff looked up from the fire and stared into Doc’s eyes. He saw only the gentle stare of a caring man.

“Sorry,” Geoff said simply.

“Sometimes Geoffrey, our greatest mistakes become our most valuable lessons,” he responded.

“Boy, the lessons I learned as a kid,” David said, jokingly.

Doc smiled cordially and said, “Speaking of lessons, maybe we should think about heading back. I’m sure there’re a few things we could teach the lad about nighttime surgery.”

David stretched his arms out wide and yawned broadly. Standing up, he replied, “I think the only thing we’ll be teaching him is how to hold the lantern still. I really hate low-light surgery.”

“It certainly isn’t my first choice either,” Doc concurred.

Geoff stood up and stretched also. He turned from the fire and began to walk away.

“You’re heading in the wrong direction Lad. Surgery’s this way,” Doc said, pointing behind him.

“I just need to relieve myself.”

“Careful of the smell Geoffrey. It attracts bears,” Doc teased.

Geoff stopped, spun around and hurried back to the fire. Standing in front of Doc, he extended his finger.

“What’s this?” Doc asked, now puzzled.

“Pull my finger,” Geoff said, wiggling his index digit in front of him.

Doc grasped the end and pulled.

Suddenly, and to Doc’s surprise, Geoff passed gas loudly.

“Then maybe I’ll just leave the smell with you,” he said sarcastically.

As he grinned devilishly, Doc stared back in shock. Slowly, he began to realize the joke.

“Masterful flatulence, Lad… simply masterful.”

He thrust his head back and bellowed a loud laugh. Instantly, David and Geoff joined in.

-----*-----*-----*-----

The Desperate Surgery – Part
III:

Year: 2033

…continued.

“Hmm, this is even worse than I anticipated,” he said in a grave tone.

He shot his colleagues an anxious look, then called for the craniotomy drill once more. He positioned it at the next location and switched it on. Instantly, the tool came to life and drowned out all noise from the surrounding monitors. Moments later, the tool switched itself off and Dr. X examined the new location.

Like before, the new hole was viewed with worry as the brain’s protective membrane was forced up through the opening by extreme internal swelling. Fearing time was working against him, he quickly moved onto the last hole of the procedure. Placing the drill at the center of the final location, he switched it on and carved another hole in the corner of the rectangular outline. Minutes later, the motor to the drill went silent and he handed it back to the nurse.

Without a moment to spare, he called out for his next tool.

“Dissector,” he shouted.

Instantly, Nurse Taylor slapped the instrument into his waiting hand.

Using the probe, he carefully slipped it past the bloated membrane and forced the tool inside the hole. Working it under the edges of the small opening, he began to separate the membrane from the skull. With the dura now detached from the inside of the skull, he moved onto the other two remaining holes, performing the same procedure he had just completed.

When he was done, he threw the bloody instrument onto the surgical tray and called out, “Bone saw!”

Anticipating his next request, Nurse Taylor held the tool out for Dr. X even before his finished his words. Through his mask, he shot an approving nod and she smiled back in appreciation.

He inserted the saw bit into the first hole between the Dura membrane and the skull and switched it on. Instantly, the loud motor blared out its ugly intentions. Dr. X moved the cutting blade along the previously inscribed line as the saw cut through the bone. While Dr. X worked on the first line of the rectangle, Dr. Acosta continued to irrigate the mounting bone-shavings, drawing up the debris as he suctioned.

The bone saw whined loudly as it protested its movement across the patient’s skull. Dr. X rocked the tool backward and forward, trying to maximize the cutting blades angle of contact. As he bore down on the bone, the tool sounded out a low growl as it bit into the hardened material. Seconds later, he released his pressure and shifted the blade, causing the motor to instantly sound out a high pitched whine as it breathed relief under the strain. Carrying on with the cut, the motor growled once more, as its teeth chewed through bone.

Several minutes later, Dr. X completed the first leg of the rectangle as the saw enter the previously drilled hole. He pulled the tool from the opening and waited as Dr. Acosta irrigated the area. He rubbed his gloved hand over the cut-line and felt its surface. Satisfied with the results, he continued on with the next leg.

“One down, three to go,” he announced dryly.

Seconds later, the low rumble of the high-speed saw marked the beginning of his next cut. Like before, he worked the tool back and forth as it progressed along the cut-line. Minutes later, he entered the second hole. Without stopping, he immediately moved to the third leg of the rectangle. Unlike the previous two legs, the end of the third was marked by the intersection of two lines. He slowed his cut as he neared the end, ensuring not to overshoot his mark. Once he completed his line, he backed the saw out of the cut-line and placed the saw in the first hole. Starting on the fourth line of the rectangle, he made his way up towards the intersection point where he had just finished. As he moved the saw along, he took extreme care not to place weight on the inside cut, fearing the added pressure would fracture the bone flap from the skull before he had completed the final pass. As he neared the end, he slowed his pace along the line. Seconds later, the saw blade broke into the previous cut-line, freeing the bone flap from the skull.

He handed the saw back to Nurse Taylor and called out, “Dissector.”

With the flat side of the instrument, he slowly pried the bone flap up from the dura membrane that held it in place. Working the probe around the rectangular skull fragment, he was able to separate the attached membrane and lift the bone flap out completely.

Staring down at the rectangular hole in the patient’s skull, he felt a sickening feeling in his stomach. A dark bloody red, the dura membrane pulsed and budged from the opening.

“I don’t ever recall seeing internal pressures this high,” Dr. Acosta recalled.

“Me either,” Dr. X concurred. Turning to anesthesiologist Dr. Haskins, he shouted, “Give him seventy milligrams of Mannitol, STAT.”

“I’m on it,” Dr. Haskins shot back instantly.

Quickly, he turned to Nurse Taylor.

“Twenty-two blade,” he demanded.

With his scalpel in hand, he stared for a moment and determined the location of his incision. Bringing the blade to the edge of the dura membrane, he lightly nicked its skin. Instantly, a stream of blood raged from the tiny incision.

“SUCTION! STAT!” he demanded.

Continued…

-----*-----*-----*-----

In the days that followed, surgeries continued on, day and night. The previous weeks of fighting took a momentary pause and now the surgeons rushed to treat the thousands that were wounded. While David and Doc worked at an intense and frantic pace, they continued to instruct Geoff in rudimentary surgical skills. By the end of his first week, under their guidance, he soon began to treat the most basic of injuries…

Daylight broke above the horizon and the sun’s rays reached through the trees
, adding natural light to the operating field. David motioned to the assisting private to remove the lantern, allowing Geoff to work in closer. Using forceps to hold open a wound, he grasped an artery with another as David tied off the bleeder.

“You’re doing great work Geoff,” he commented. “I’m not just saying that either. You’re a natural. I’ve seen dozens of surgical techs struggle for years trying to learn what you’ve done in a week. Just amazing.”

Geoff beamed once more in pride.

“I don’t know how you work so fast,” Geoff retorted, returning the compliment. “You finish with things even before my mind figures out what you’re doing.”

“Well, if you miss anything, speak up and I’ll make sure you understand it. It’s really important that you get this. Time is so critical right now. With the amount of wounded, it’s going to take a long time to wade through them all. Some will lose their limbs simply because we didn’t get to them in time, so it’s critical that we get you up to speed and able to treat the simple wounds, while Doc and I concentrate on those with more serious injuries.