Brother’s Dilemma: Chapter 10

**Brother’s Dilemma: Chapter 10**
*By: SoleMann*

I just figured it was nerves causing my mind to play tricks on me. There’s no way that was Steph I saw darting by just as the receptionist closed her window. She worked in the ER of the hospital on the other side of town, not here in the med-center. I didn’t have long to dwell on it, since they called me to go into the back before my butt even got warm in the chair.

I was escorted all the way down the hall to the surgery room, where I was told to once again change into one of those flimsy hospital gowns and take a seat on the reclining operating table. The doctor popped in and said she’d be with me shortly, but first a nurse would come in to prep me, get my vitals, hook me up to some monitors, and put an IV in my arm. She said that although I wouldn’t be put under for the operation, they’d put something in the IV to help calm me down and make me more compliable. I assumed she meant comfortable.

The nurse came in, took my vitals, stuck a few probes on me, and put in the IV. She then grabbed a bottle of that rust-colored antiseptic that they usually rubbed on the area to prep it for surgery. I asked if she was going to shave me first, and she said that they only did that for abdominal surgery and as long as I was somewhat groomed down there, which she heard I already was, it would be fine. Before I could ask her how she heard that, she had already folded up my gown and started applying the cool liquid to my groin and privates, then continued to mask off the area. She gave her handiwork one last look over and headed out the door, saying the doctor would be with me shortly.

A few minutes later the doctor came strolling in. “You all ready to get that cucumber peeled?” The door swung open again. “Oh, and I believe you already know my intern.”

And in walked Steph. “Surprise little bro.”

Holy crap, what was she doing here? Seeing the look of shock on my face, Steph told me how I wasn’t the only topic of conversation months ago at that party. She reached over and adjusted something on the IV. Because mom had also mentioned to her doctor friend that Steph was an intern, her friend suggested that she should transfer from that crazy hectic ER job to her office, and the rest was history. I was about to voice my concerns, when suddenly I started to feel very calm and compliant.

“So if there are no objections,” the doctor said, “then let’s get started.”

I just shrugged my shoulder as my eyes started to gloss over.

“Good, first things first,” she continued. “We need to administer a local anesthetic.” She then turned to Steph and asked if she would like to do the honors.

She got a huge grin on her face as the doctor handed her the needle. Steph then told me to brace myself, because just like at the dentist’s, once she sticks the needle in, she’d have to manipulate it around to help the medicine spread properly.

She reached down and abruptly rammed the needle into the side of my shaft, and then slowly started to maneuver it around. If it wasn’t for the medicine they put in my IV, I would have jumped out of my seat from the pain. She removed the needle and before my shaft had a chance to get numb, she rammed it into the other side and repeated the process.

“Now what?” she asked.

The doctor got a coy smile on her face and said that we can either wait until the anesthetic travels up his shaft, or we can speed things up by giving him a shot right in his glans.

Steph looked at me and told me that I’d like to speed things up. “Right little bro?”

I had no idea what that entailed, but I nodded yes anyways. Steph got a huge grin on her face and the next thing I knew, she jabbed the needle right into the head of my penis and started to mercilessly grind it around. Only this time, despite the meds in the IV, the intense wave of pain caused me to convulse a little.

The doctor turned to Steph and told her that now we just wait a couple minutes for the anesthetic to fully kick in and she can start with the operation. Then turning to me, she reminded me that per our discussion months ago, that she was going to do a high and tight, and remove as much excess skin as possible. In fact, like she had mentioned then, based on my past history, she’d be removing a little extra just to be safe. This could add a week or more to my recovery time, and most likely would cause some discomfort for a year or more until the skin could stretch out properly and recover, but I’d be better off in the long run. Whatever was in the IV was doing its job, as I just nodded compliantly.

Once the doctor was sure the area was fully anesthetized, she started the process of removing my foreskin. It was a traumatic event that I don’t wish to relive, which was only made worse by her giving a blow by blow to Steph about why and what she was doing. It concluded with a dull thwack as she haphazardly dropped my detached foreskin into one of those little metal medical pans.

She said that all that was left was to make sure the exposed areas were lined up properly, and that she first put four equilateral sutures around the shaft just bellow the glans, then filled in the rest of the incision once she was satisfied with the results. As she was doing this, she told Steph that she heard she had stitched up more than her fair share of wounds in the ER, and asked if she would like to finish off filling in rest of the sutures. Steph got this huge grin on her face and just nodded her head.

As Steph started to get to work on suturing up my penis, the doctor continued to advise her. She told her just like the work she’d done in the ER, if you hadn’t caught enough skin or the stitches weren’t tight enough, it would cause the wound to take longer to heal. Conversely, if she’d caught too much skin or the stitches were too tight, it would restrict movement and put added strain on the area. This wouldn’t bode well in this instance, since there could already be added stress due to her removing slightly more skin than necessary because of my past conditions. She added that it was better to err on the latter than the former. Steph then proceeded to suture me up, with the doctor noting she used an unusual stitch pattern. Steph just smiled back at her, saying that it was something she developed over the past year interning at the ER.

Once Steph finished up with the sutures, the doctor wrapped my penis in what she called a compression bandage and said I should leave it on for roughly 24 hours, but no more than 48 hours. They then moved me onto a gurney and into a post-op room where I waited the standard half hour to be sure the pluming worked. As I had been warned, my nice condensed stream was now a wide-spraying, uncontrollable mess. I was then told to get dressed and that the doctor would be in shortly with my family to discharge me.