Stay Off My Operating Table Novels & Stories

“Do you trust me?” She nods. “Don’t leave me alone. I don’t want to be alone.” “I won’t. I promise. I’m going to put you under because I need to operate on you, okay? You’re bleeding internally and I need to stitch up your wounds. But I won’t leave you and if I have to step out, I’ll leave Deborah with you, okay?” I stay in her line of sight, my eyes focused on hers, and my voice calm, hoping that it will help her to stay calm.

I can't even think it. The operating room doors open. A surgeon approaches. My heart literally stops beating. Please. Please let her live. I'll do anything. Just let her live.

This is really making me very nervous. We arrived at the operating room, where two other doctors would be assisting Doctor Sullivan. Shofia helped me onto the gurney. She grasped my fingers, and I could see that she was crying, but she tried to smile at me. After that, Shofia said goodbye and left me alone with the doctors in this room. I just stared at the ceiling of this room with my mind racing. I had so many things on my mind, and I couldn't stop praying to God.

She walked towards the left side of the operating table where the patient is laying down. “Vitals?” asked by Madison. “All vitals stable.” “Anesthesia has been administered, you can now start the operation,” said by the Anesthesiologist. “Patient is a thirty-four-year-old man who was involved in a car accident. He has a fracture on his arm and left abdomen and suspected head injury. Abdomen will be opened first since a sharp glass stabbed the area and we shall remove it first. After I’m done, doctor Hannah, neurosurgeon will take over and proceed for the head injury. Doctor Kevin will assist.” After explaining the flow of the operation, Madison bowed her head for a silent prayer. “Let us giv

Her eyes fill with tears as her head shoots up, looking in the direction of the operating room **** Thaddeus's POV I'm terrified as I hold his face in my hands. I can feel him getting weaker. I can feel the painful sensation when the strands to his lifeline, and tethered to me snap every now and then. The sensation is all too familiar to me, and I'm terrified since he's laying here on the operating table, with the doctors working on him. I shouldn't feel it if the doctors are here, right? They should be stopping it, this shouldn't be happening with them here!

I tried to yell but it only came out as a pathetic murmur. Soon I was laid flat on the operating table forced to stare at the bright blinding lights above. The shiny metal between the lights reflected my whole body as if in a mirror. I watched them bind me to the table so, even if the drug wore off, I won't be able to do anything. It was obvious that this was not their first rodeo. Everyone was working as if through muscle memory. I wondered how many times they had done the procedure that they were about to do to me. And more importantly, why?

Sylvia The bright lights of the operating room reflected off every metallic surface, making the place gleam like a different world, cold, sharp, and sacred. My heart thudded steadily beneath my scrubs as I stood before the table where Governor David Collins lay, prepped and anesthetized, surrounded by monitors that hummed quietly. This was it. The first stage of the governor’s surgery, the most crucial part, the one that would decide if he would even make it to the next.

The near-death experience served as a wake-up call, propelling me to embrace life with renewed vigor and gratitude. Before entering the operating room, there wasn’t much thought in my mind. I was simply going through the motions, unaware of the profound impact that awaited me. However, as I lay on the operating table, my perspective shifted drastically. The fear and uncertainty consumed me, forcing me to confront my mortality head-on.

With my left hand, I propped myself up and slowly made my way to the operating table. I couldn't see Devan's face, but I could feel his cold skin. "I'm sorry. I tried my best," I silently said in my mind. But as my cold fingers brushed against his chest, a surge of determination shot through my brain. No. It wasn't time to give up yet. I snapped my head up and barked an order at the nurses trembling in the dark, "Scrub! Listen to me! Use the manual pump. Keep the bypass going. 60 beats per minute. Whatever you do, don't stop."

I couldn’t tell. All I knew was that my heart was beating wildly, and every painful memory I had tried so hard to bury came rushing back at once. “Dr. Hale, we need to start the surgery now. His pulse is...” I could hear someone speaking, but my brain couldn’t process anything. I took a step back, then another, and another. “Is something wrong, Doctor?” “I… I can’t operate on this patient,” I said, my voice trembling. The nurses looked at each other in confusion. I didn’t wait another second. I turned immediately and started walking out of the OR.