Trepanation

The red of the walls bled through the panes of translucent plastic sheeting she applied to the sides of the room. A placement tray, sterilized with hibiclens soap was equipped with a scalpel, drill and bits, gauze and potions of sodium chloride, Lidocaine and Epinephrine. He read the box of latex gloves, size medium, ready to be donned by his girlfriend. He remembered his mother’s hands that used to freely pat his head.

He had already prepped a portion of his head, three inches by three inches shaved, with a orange disposable razor. His scalp was smooth and clean. “Choke me,” he said “to map my veins with this blue pen.” There was no hesitation as a hand wrapped around the front of his throat and a diagram was drawn.

A hypodermic needle, filled with a 1cc mixture of Lidocaine and Epinephrine punctured the canvas of skin. The area went numb, the room quiet. She took a scalpel and made a half moon incision larger than a nickel but smaller than a quarter. “I want to have a sense of God” he muttered.

Forceps and fore fingers pulled at the skin. It was adhered stronger than she thought. The scalpel sawed the flesh from the skull. Sodium chloride irrigation helped wash away the blood. “Are you sure you want to go through with this?” she pressed.

“Yes.”

The Dremmel with ball and flame-shaped burrs were used at drill speed 4. The buzzing reverberated through his jaws, down his spine, to the tip of his toes. She drilled and irrigated. The bone turned to dust. Twenty minutes, thirty minutes, marrow. Drill speed 2. One hour— meninges. It opened.

His brain pulsated. A sign of success. “Let’s widen the hole.” The drill went on, slowly. Her hands moved with trepidation. “I can’t widen it anymore.”

She unfolded the skin. Using a needle, thread and a whipstitch she sutured the incision.

He sat up and looked at her for the first time. She patted his head ever so lightly. He knew all for the first time. He saw his mother sitting there, tears in her eyes with medium sized hands.