Part Three

*~*~*

Missy always seemed to ground him when it came to medical issues. She knew his dislike for western medicine and he trusted her and felt at ease when she was around. So after talking out his fears, drinking three cups of Nonu tea, picking at his waffle and going through a box of tissues for his sore and runny nose, he felt better equipped to handle what had to be done.

The trauma that he endured so long ago lost its hold just a little. He could think about it more subjectively and not through the eyes of a frightened child.

Later, when he arrived home, the loft was empty, but a note on the table explained that Jim had gone to the grocery store and would be home soon. Next to the note sat a plate holding a whole chocolate éclair.

He picked up his treat, smiling all the way to the sofa.

Blair spent some time on his laptop, searching the web for alternatives, drinking some more tea to sooth his throat and clear his stuffy nasal passages. Jim came home a little later, coming over to him, jacket still clutched in his hand. "Blair, I…"

He held his hand up, forestalling whatever Jim wanted to say. "It's okay, man. We're okay."

Jim's smiled a little as he tossed his jacket in the chair before sliding down to sit on the other end of the sofa.

They talked for a bit. Blair told him about a list of surgeons Missy had given him and promised that in the morning he was going to call the first person on the list.

They watched TV for nearly an hour, an old Jimmy Stewart film, before Jim called it a night. "Good night, Chief."

"Night, Jim."

Blair sighed, feeling warm at last and looked around the loft, taking in the safety and comfort it offered.

Moonlight filtered under the closed blinds of the balcony doors. A few candles burned atop a pile of books resting on the coffee table and two dessert plates sat nearly empty but for a few shavings of chocolate and crumbs, a smidge of cream filling smeared one of the forks sitting on top of the plates.

This was his home and most important, he wasn't alone anymore.

*~*~*

In the morning he wasn't feeling so sure, sitting on the couch, a warm fleece blanket wrapped around him, a cup of hot chocolate cooling in his hands. Jim was on the phone, had been on the phone for hours speaking, having gone through Missy's list and with his own physician, asking for referrals of trusted surgeons and then contacting their offices. Blair supposed Jim needed to be doing something.

"How you holding up, Chief?"

Looking up from the chocolate tornado he had made by swirling his mug, he shrugged. He was fine really; his cold was better and the lingering pain near his groin was manageable, although he felt a little stupid for causing such a fuss. As much as he reasoned with himself, telling himself that it was long ago and that it was the doctor's error, cold tendrils of fear still sneaked up on him every time he thought about it and he held onto his cup a little tighter.

It didn't have to be rational he knew, phobias never are.

"You hungry? I can thaw the beef barley soup, maybe I'll run to Herman's and get a loaf of Italian?"

He shook his head, setting his cup atop the stack of books on the coffee table. "I'm not hungry, did you find out anything?"

"I've talked to a few people and they all put Dr. Ramanatha at the top of their lists. She's a specialist at Mercy, a topnotch surgeon and her office can schedule you day after tomorrow."

He could feel himself paling, the blood draining from his face as Jim spoke. That soon?

Jim shoved the books and some papers out of the way and sat across from him on the coffee table, breaking a few of his own rules.

"She's really the best, Blair."

He looked so uncertain and Blair's anxiety level shot up another notch or two. "So, what do I gotta do?" His voice cracked, he could feel something suspiciously like tears pressing behind his eyes, but he sucked in a breath, told himself again to grow the hell up and stood, tossing the throw over the back of the couch.

"They're expecting you this afternoon for some pre-op testing."

He headed to the bathroom to shower and get dressed, nodding his head. "Okay, it'll be out in a few." Slowing he closed the bathroom door, shutting the world out.

I can do this, just take control and do what has to be done.

Staring the shower, moving through the motions of his morning routine, he decided it was time to suck it up.

*~*~*

He could hear Jim pacing the small room where he lay with his eyes closed, trying to repeat his calming mantra, and it was really getting on his last nerve. "Would you just sit?" he finally snapped.

A second later a chair scraped across the floor and Blair opened his eyes, giving up on his mantra. Jim sat close to the bed, eye level with a goofy grin on his face. "Sorry, Chief."

He nodded, resting his head back against the flat pillow behind him and closing his eyes again. 'I am calm, I am calm, calm, stay calm…everything will be fine, of course it will…'

The room was cold and sterile, and he started to shiver under the thin sheet that covered him.

'…calm…stay calm…relax…re…la…'

"Good morning, Mr. Sandburg." He jumped, eyes flying open and watching wearily as a younger man with balding head and brilliant green eyes breezed into his room, much too chipper for the ungodly hour. "My name is Jake. I'll be with you through the morning until you're moved to your own room." The man pulled the rolling tray table over Blair's lap and plopped down a stack of papers in a twist of wrist and fingers. "I need to go over the authorization of consent for treatment and I can answer any questions you may have."

Blair nodded as the man spoke, he knew most of what the papers explained, having spent the day before at the hospital enduring more poking and prodding, undergoing various tests in preparation for his surgery. The nurse went over each form, reciting as if a monologue, "Your procedure is fairly routine but could take up to three hours."

He wondered what those three or so hours would feel like to him.

"So minor risks include reaction to the anesthesia, infection and bleeding at the surgical site, nerve damage, numbness of skin, loss of blood supply to the scrotum or testicles resulting in testicular atrophy, damage to the vas deferens resulting in sterility, and damage to the femoral artery or vein and even death."

Not exactly a comforting notion.

"But these risks are low and your prognosis is very good. Once you are in recovery and stable, we will move you to a room to be monitored for the rest of the day. By this evening the nursing staff will get you up, make sure you can eat and pass urine and have a bowel movement. You will more than likely be released in the morning or by midday tomorrow. You can expect to be out of work for at least six weeks and can return to light activity within two. No heavy lifting or strenuous physical activities, including sex for at least four weeks. Do you have any questions?"

He shook his head; taking the pen from the guy and signing his name where indicated. He knew the risks and didn't want to have to think about the risks regardless of how low.

"Okay, I'm gonna get things set up, start your IV and then your friend," he nodded toward Jim, "will need to wait in the lounge for a bit."

Jim jumped up like he'd been bitten. "I'm gonna…" he indicated behind him, backing up toward the door. "Can you get me when I can come back in?" He asked the nurse.

"Sure thing," Jake told him, heading toward the door himself. "I'll be right back, Mr. Sandburg."

"Ah…Jim?" Blair caught him before he crossed the threshold and Jim made his way back to the bed, looking at him expectantly. Blair held out his hand and Jim took the contents. Earlier this morning, right after they had arrived he was directed to get undressed and to change into a gown. He had removed his earrings and bracelet, but didn't tuck them into the bag he was given for his belongings. "You mind hanging onto these for me?"

Jim closed his head around the jewelry. "Sure thing, Chief." He pocketed Blair's belongings, leaving his hand inside his pocket, a little more relaxed look on his face. "I'll be right outside."

Jim left as the nurse returned; supplies for god knew what in his arms. "Okay, let's get ya ready."

And for a big guy, Jake was surprisingly gentle as he prepared Blair body for the surgery.

He barely felt the needle pierce the skin of his left forearm, watching impassively as the catheter was secured and his whole arm strapped to a padded foam board. They had given him something when he had first arrived and Blair was finally feeling the effects.

A safety razor removed hair then little plastic disked probes were taped to freshly shaven skin on his chest and back, a small clip like device was attacked to his left index finger and a blood pressure cuff was secured around his right arm.

He watched as Jake set the timer on a machine that the wires were attached to, feeling the cuff as it began squeezing his arm. "It's set for every fifteen minutes."

The nurse spent a few more minutes fiddling with the IV line and then he pulled a syringe from his pocket, uncapping it with his teeth and using the upper IV port to inject the contents into Blair's IV. He tossed the used needle and cap into a red container over the head of the bed, then patted Blair's arm. "That'll help you relax a little more, okay?"

Whatever it was, it was a lot stronger. He could already feel his breathing evening out, the coiled knot in his belly for the pass few days loosened just a bit.

He didn't even flinch when the sheet covering him was pulled back to his knees. "I'm gonna be shaving some hair away at the surgery site."

He nodded, feeling something cold on his skin, and then gentle scraping as his legs were moved to allow access. "I'm gonna wait until we get you to the OR before putting in the foley, it'll be more comfortable after the sedation takes effect."

He didn't know if he had acknowledged Jake, feeling disconnected, but a few minutes later the sheet was pulled back up and Jake went to one of the long cabinets that lined the wall and grabbed a blanket, straightening it over Blair. "You might feel a little cold, shiver a bit, that's normal. I'm gonna get your friend and then I'll be in to check on you. It shouldn't be too much longer."

This time he nodded, feeling chilled already. Tiny goose bumps rose on his arms and legs and he was shaking just a little before his teeth started to chatter.

Pulling the blanket around him as best he could, he closed his eyes and found that relaxing was a little easier now.

He drifted…the feeling somehow familiar and subconsciously he knew that at some point Jim had returned. He could feel his presence; a sense of calm blanketed him, a peace he couldn't really explain just knowing that Jim was sitting beside him, waiting with him.

A moment later…an hour later…a small knocking startled Blair's eyes open.

"S'okay," Jim said, reaching out and lightly stroking Blair's forearm. "They're ready for you."

He squinted up at Jake and some other man dressed in green scrubs. He felt a little fuzzy as the men worked around him, transferring his IV lines to the pole attached to the gurney, lining the rolling bed up with the one he lay in. "I need you to scoot this way," one of them said, taking hold of the sheet under him and pulling as he tried to slid closer to the edge of the bed, but he was uncoordinated, gangly in a way he had never been before.

Suddenly cold air caressed his skin as he was swiftly lifted and deposited onto the gurney and he shivered anew, waiting for them to cover him with the thin sheet and blanket the other man was holding.

Jake bent and unlocked the rolling wheels, speaking close to his ear. "Okay, you ready to roll?"

The soft surface under him moved before he could even respond.

Jim walked along the corridor with them and Jake told him, "You can wait in the family waiting room around the corner. They're expecting you, so check in at the counter."

Jim nodded, stepping closer to the gurney, awkwardly patting his arm. "I'll see you soon, Chief."

Blair blew out a steadying breath, feeling fairly calm. "Later, man."

He lost sight of Jim as the gurney began to move through a labyrinth of brightly lit corridors, so he closed his eyes against the lights, feeling even more like he was floating and briefly wondered if this was what getting stoned felt like. A tiny chuckle escaped his lips as they finally came to a stop and he opened his eyes to see two swinging doors.

Someone grabbed his wrist, consulting the plastic ID band around it and then the chart she was holding. "Okay, room six."

They rolled him through the doors and Blair could see many beds cordoned off with curtains. "This is recovery," the woman said. "This is where you'll be for about an hour after the surgery and then you'll be assigned a room."

Two other people clad in blue scrubs took the end of his bed and pulled him farther down the hall and through another set of swinging doors.

Panic surged when he lost sight of Jake.

Everyone around him wore masks and ugly green gowns, concealing their features and facial expressions.

He was pushed past several rooms with large windows and then through one more door and into an operating room.

A blinding set of lights hung in the center and various machines and equipment lined the walls. Several other people in gowns worked around the room. He noted one laying out instruments on a tray and covering them with a blue sterile cloth, and another adjusted knobs on a large machine at the head of the narrow bed that he was being asked to slide over to, others moving in on him, holding IV lines and supporting his back and head, helping him scoot over to the operating table.

Once settle, the thin sheet that covered him was lifted away and the gown he wore was opened at the shoulders and pulled down a little. Someone else pushed the thin material up over his belly, baring the surgical site and exposing his nakedness.

A woman worked near his feet, opening plastic containers, laying things out on his stomach and between his legs and a horrible feeling of vulnerability over took him, making him shake more. "I need to put in a catheter now, Mr. Sandburg." She told him. "You're going to feel some pressure, but just try to relax and breathe through it."

He jumped despite knowing that she would be touching him. "Relax." She soothed, holding his organ firmly, guiding something cold over the tip of his penis. "I'm injecting some lidocaine jelly to numb you up." The slimy gel slithered through his urethra, burning as it was forced upward. "Now I'm putting in the tube." He could feel it enter into him and inch forward. It hurt like a bitch, taking his breath away and he wanted to tell her, but only managed to gasp and clutch at the bedding. "Take a deep breath for me." He tried, garbling in a shaky breath and then he felt something shift, give way and the pain receded, but the pressure remained. Finally the tube and his penis was pulled upward and taped down to his belly. "All done."

Not soon enough.

Someone disassembled the table he was laying on, the piece supporting his legs and feet dropped away and he briefly felt like he was falling. At the same time another contraption was attached to each side of the bed and his legs were lifted and pulled apart and into the supports. Looking down his body he could see and feel long green stocking pulled onto each foot and up to his mid thigh; a couple pieces of Velcro stretched from each side of the leg supports and his legs were strapped down.

What looked like a blood pressure cuff was wrapped snugly around his left thigh and a cold black disk was slid up and under the strap to hold it to his leg.

At the same time the masked man at the head of the bed asked him to pick up his right shoulder and then slid the last wire and disk beneath him, attaching it to almost the center of his back, between his shoulder blades. As he lay back flat, the other lead wires and blood pressure cuff were attached to a machine above his head, immediately squeezing his arm for a new reading and he could hear the sound of his own heartbeat echoing on the machine that kept the readings.

Finally heavy drape sheets fluttered down to cover each leg and another was smoothed out across his body as both arms were pulled out from his body and secured to boards on either side of him.

Feeling trapped, he could feel panic arise within him, but the meds he was given kept it in check.

"Just rest for a bit…the doctor will be in soon."

He nodded, rolling his head to the left, seeing Dr. Ramanatha on the other side of the window, scrubbing her hands in the deep sinks in front of her, her long black hair pulled up into her cap, a mask tied by the two bottom ribbons dangled around her neck.

Missy came into the room too, scrubbing her hands, using her elbow to shut off the water and drying them on a few paper towels. She smiled at Blair when she saw him, giving him a playful wink and blew him a kiss.

He smiled or at least he thought he did...he was getting really sleepy.

Dr. Ramanatha came through the swinging doors that connected the operation room from the scrub room, a nurse helping her put on her purple surgical gloves. "How are you, Blair?" Her rich Indian accent bounced off the walls and Blair opened his eyes, wondering when he had closed them.

"I'm okay..."

"Good, good. We're going to get started now. Dr. Manning has given you something to help you relax. In a minute he's going to put a mask over your face. Just breathe normal, okay."

He nodded; a new layer of drowsiness overtook him. The next time he opened his eyes, a masked Melissa stood near his side, patting one outstretched arm. She leaned forward and whispered in his ear. "You're doing great, everything is gonna be fine."

And he believed her.

As she straightened the mask was held over his mouth and nose. "Take deep breaths." The anesthesiologist instructed, so he breathed in deep. "Can you count backwards from one hundred?

"One hundred…ninety nine…ninety eight…ninety seven…ninety…"

His body felt like it was sinking down, deeper and deeper into a waking dream. He could hear the people around him and knew he had stopped counting, could feel people touching his body, but he wasn't able to move, to open his eyes or answer them.

Something sticky covered each eye and gentle hands on his head tilted it back. Something hard passed his lips and tongue and then down his throat, he could feel it scraping along, unable to breathe until it passed into his lung.

But he wasn't really worried and he briefly wondered if he should be. It was uncomfortable, but not painful.

Music came on, violin and guitar, a haunting melody, and he could hear Missy, still standing near him, telling someone that he loved listening to Angie Ferris, her low and sultry voice filled the room.

He listened to the soft playing music, briefly thinking it was odd that he could hear what he was hearing. Jim had told him that once he was under, he should wake up feeling like time hadn't passed.

"Let's begin, scalpel."

A slight pressure on his leg was followed by a sharp stinging pain in his groin and with sudden clarity he realized he could feel the surgeon's scalpel cutting his flesh.

STOP!! he screamed and cried, trying to recoil from the pain, to move away from the cutting edge of the knife, but he's body remained quiet and still.

"Pressure 132/85. Heart rate 93."

"Check the saturation rate."

"All levels are normal, Doctor."

White hot agony shot through his groin and into his belly, zigzagging up his spine and he kept on screaming, begging for help.

But no one could hear him.

*~*~*

TBC