The Pediatrician
He didn't think about it much, really; it was just part of his job as a pediatrician. Circumcism was the choice of most new parents. He performed the operation several times a day, neatly slicing the foreskin off the tiny penises of babies whose only mistake was being born in a culture that mutilated newborn males.
Today had been busier than most, a total of six little guys went under his knife.
He sat at home nursing his scotch, thinking about the heated argument that he'd had hours earlier with an irate mother. She was upset that pain medication was not offered her son before the procedure. He tried to explain that a general anesthetic was unnecessarily risky for a newborn, and that a local was likely to be as painful as the cut itself. The woman was unconvinced, and stormed away in an angry huff.
The doctor poured a second drink, and reflected on the events of his busy day. He'd long since realized that performing circumcisms slightly amused him. The feeling of power over another helpless human being was somehow arousing. It gave him a little rush to see the tiny face turn bright red, and he tingled just a bit when he heard the high-pitched squeal. He couldn't help but wince each time he made the cut and was glad his parents chose to leave him intact.
He went to bed, and thanks to the alcohol, fell quickly asleep.
A noise woke him up; he heard voices and the familiar sounds of a noisy hospital. The room was flooded with light, and the brightness hurt his eyes. He found himself unable to move, and felt the straps that bound his arms and legs.
He recognized the smell of the antiseptic even before the cold liquid was swabbed on his genitalia. Mammoth faces gazed down on him as he attempted in vain to call out. It happened with remarkable swiftness. Huge hands descended upon him, draping his torso in paper, then manipulating his minute penis out onto a little bed of cotton gauze. Another set of hands appeared, impossibly huge, carrying the familiar tools of his trade that he knew so well. He heard people talking and laughing.
He felt the cut: sudden and white hot. Sweet Mary, mother of God, the pain! He heard the shrieking. It was some time before he realized the sound was coming from him.
His arms and legs were suddenly free. A large sympathetic female face appeared above him, as he felt himself being lifted and carried across the room. Deposited on a table, monstrous fingers tightened around his little feet. As they were lifted, and his bottom came off the table, he somehow realized through the pain that the nurse was putting him in a diaper. He found himself tightly wrapped in a blue blanket lying on his back in a clear plastic bassinet
Slowly he was able to regain his composure. His wound continued to burn, as an invisible hand covered his face, forcing his eyes shut.
He opened his eyes once again to the sound of music, an old Beatles tune. He was lying in his own bed, with his clock radio warning him that if he didn't get moving, he'd be late for morning rounds. What an incredible dream! The pain had seemed so real! He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.
He gasped as the pain hit him, and sobbed hysterically as he
looked down at the huge red bloodstain that covered the front
of his white briefs.