Scheißidee

The Medic took a deep breath as he slowly ran his hand down his naked chest until he felt the quick, nervous beat of his heart underneath his skin.
He was freezing and the cold steel of the operating table was pressing uncomfortably against his back. He shifted a little but stayed as uncomfortable as he had been before.
With a resigned sigh he adjusted his glasses, reached out for a scalpel, placed its tip against his skin and, with a sudden movement, placed a long, deep cut all the way down his sternum. And as the blood began to spurt out and he realized there was nobody there to hand him the rib retractor it dawned on him that this might have been not such a great idea at all.
"Scheißidee."