Stay Off My Operating Table Novels & Stories

"The jet just left New York." "Let them come," the man said, looking at the figure lying on the operating table, hooked up to monitors. "The procedure has already begun," the Weaver said. "By the time they land, Cane Marcom will no longer exist." He hung up the phone and picked up a scalpel. "Time to shed your skin, Cane Marcom." He lowered the blade.

I lay on an icy operating table and waited in despair for death to take me. Meanwhile, my husband, Arthur Rothe, waited outside Shawna Green's operating theater. I had tubes plugged into my body, and the beeping of the instruments around me made me feel like bells were chiming. They were telling me it was time to leave. As my ECG turned into a straight line, news of Shawna's surgery being a success came from the other operating theater. The light outside the operating theater went off, and my eyes shut forever.

[ S E R A P H I N E ] How long is the surgery supposed to take? An hour? A few hours? I need some answers. Some reassurance. I mean, we both do. We didn't even get to see her upclose. We're not allowed in the ICU due to the isolation protocols. “Please be okay. Please. Please get better,” I whisper to myself, imagining the woman staying unconscious on the operating table. I only saw her graying short hair, barely half of her pale face, some wires, and the tubes stuck to her lean arms and torso.

Slamming open the doors to the washing bay, the operating room itself was still protected for sanitary reasons. “You are not giving up on him!” Rosie screamed, begging the doctors for something. “What the hell is going on?” I yelled into the microphone attached to the operating room. I startled everyone inside the room, before Rosie slammed herself against the window, “They want to unplug him; do not let them do that! He is still with me!” Rosie roared.

I wanted to ask Ginger after this if I could take a shower immediately. "Now, unfortunately, I have to let you go," the doctor said as he glided around my chair and stood right in front of me, his all black outfit contrasting with the pristine white of the operation room. "I have more patients to operate on today, but deary, I'll never lose track of you," he chuckled while pointing to my neck.

These thoughts ran through her head, over and over, and at the very last second, just as her knees began to shake, she gripped the sides of the operating table and took a deep breath, steadying herself. She couldn’t do this here, not in front of all the people. “Doctor Arnett,” The assisting doctor, the one who had been working with her since the operation started, stepped forward. “Are you okay?” She asked. “I’m fine.” Ivory responded. Her voice had been calm and collected, not betraying her inner thoughts and emotions. “But,” His eyes went over to the lifeless body that was now being covered. He wanted to say something, but opted for saying otherwise. “My condolences, Ma’am.”

When Wisdom thought of that scene, he shivered. Rita smiled and said, "Brother Wisdom don't be afraid. In fact, you just need to close your eyes and not look at it. I am frequently inside the operating room since I was a child. It's fine as long as you get used to it. Keep in your mind that there are still many people who care about us waiting for us outside. We have to survive the operating table no matter what. It's better not to let them worry so much." Mango's nose suddenly felt a little sore. She directly opened the door and went out.

She kept on looking around, everything was so new to her, You can observe behind the partition over there. The area around the operating table is restricted and no one is allowed to enter except the medical personnel, the doctor said pointing at the partition at the end of the room. She nodded in obedience, the doctor continued, “When we begin your mother's operation, the procedure will be displayed on the monitor. There’s a monitor behind the partition that you can watch it on” he said “Okay,” she nodded. If you feel any image has become bloody, nauseous, or upset, please stop watching, if by any chance you become tired of standing, just let the nurses know so they can resort you out.

As I lay on the operating table, the cold touch of the instruments made my entire body tremble. I’m sorry… my child, whom I never got to meet.

I tugged at my collar and stepped closer. "Do you have any idea how desperate it feels to lie on an operating table… waiting for your surgeon?" She took a step back, raising her voice to cover it. "I agreed to do the surgery. The surgery is done. Why can't I leave?" "There were other doctors to close!" A low sound escaped my throat–not quite a laugh. She lost her patience. She shoved me, straightening up. "Stop acting crazy!" "Your mother's post-op care still depends on me. If you piss me off–"