I’m sure y’all will thank me for not going into the particulars about my testiculars. Things went along right smooth and Doc Brown seemed to be the master of small talk. The local anesthetic made me forget all about him clipping and sewing down there. My mind started to wander, and so I asked him what his job was like. The good doctor proceeded to tell me about different injuries he had been called on to repair. His ability to verbally paint a picture of a man’s disfigured tenders was something to appreciate.
Lookin’ back on it, I reckon my lack of revulsion may have been seen as an affront to his story telling. He started on the other side of me not long after he finished his tales of mutilation and horror. First the fella’s clamp slipped while he was sticking the needle inside to administer the local anesthetic. I’ll be right honest, that hurt a mite. Doctor Brown managed to get his clamp back on and I prayed he did not miss again. Well, everything was moving along better after that. At least until I felt the scalpel.
Now don’t get me wrong. It wasn’t anything more than a bee sting, but it was inside a part of the body a man does not want stung. Old Doc Brown stopped, grabbed a straight needle and started pokin’ at me. He told me to tell him when it hurt, and he confirmed quite a few places weren’t numb. He stood there for a few seconds and suddenly exclaimed, “Oh, I’m so dumb. This is a local, I can use the whole thing.” He then proceeded to pour the whole container of numbing liquid down the open wound where he was workin’. Thankfully, I couldn’t feel a thing after that.
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