Don't be scared, guys!
My naked body, covered with a white sheet, is being wheeled on a gurney down a long white corridor. The doctors' footsteps echo hollowly in the concrete walls. They wheel me into the operating room, transfer me to the table. They give me an anesthetic injection. They put a lilac cap on my head, and similar "slippers" on my feet. They tie down my arms and legs—so I don't kick and run away. They cover me completely, only my penis remains visible. They turn on the shadowless lamp. They prepare the instruments. A chill runs over my skin. Someone's gentle hands shave my groin. Very carefully. In any other situation, I would, of course, get aroused, but not this one. We're waiting for the surgeon...
***
Why the
hell did I piss? Why the hell did I piss in those damn bushes? On those damn wasps. Why? What for? Just because, damn it. Holy shit. It happened this morning. At my grandma's in the village. My cousin was with me. Waking up early, we went out into the yard and started thinking about what to do today. I went into the bushes to take a piss and found a wasp nest there. Out of sheer boredom, I did what I did on the wasp nest. The wasps were outraged by such humiliating actions on my part and flew out of the nest. I barely jumped back. But it was too late. A terrible pain pierced my organ. One of the wasps stung me right on the glans. How it hurt! Well, I think, it'll pass. No way. An hour later, my penis had swollen to 5 cm in diameter and 20 cm in length. Before that, it was only 3 cm in diameter and 16 cm long. Scary. I call my sister, tell her:— A bee stung me here, wanna see!
My sister, despite being 18, turned out to be quite curious.
— Show me, she says.
— But you turn around!
She turns around. Then she turns back... And there I am with my pants down and my stung pepper!
— Oh-oh!
My sister even opened her mouth. But not at all for what you thought, but in surprise.
What to do now? They write that you need to suck out the venom. But who will suck it out? Put honey on it. We put honey on it. No use. Anyway, damn it, I'm going home to the city. Luckily—it's an hour's drive.
I get home. I run to the hospital to the urologist. I enter the office.
— Here, I say, taking off my pants, — a wasp stung me!
Wild laughter in response. Assholes. You shouldn't laugh at someone else's misfortune.
— So, so, so... Feeling okay? Urine passing? We need to cut, or the skin will burst.
— What? Cut it all off?
— No, not all, just a little trim-cut.
— Doctor, will it hurt?
— 300 rubles—and you won't feel a thing.
— Okay, here's 500 for you.
The doctor wrote me a referral to the nearest hospital for an unscheduled operation. I go (hobble—my dick is in the way!) to the hospital, in the staff room I say loudly, having lost all shame:
— I need the surgeon. A wasp stung me on the dick!
Wild laughter. Bastards. What are you laughing at?
They escorted me to the pre-op room. Stripped me naked and wheeled me to surgery.
And here I am. Lying on the table, waiting for the surgeon. Two in the afternoon. Damn. And why the hell did I piss in the bushes on those damn wasps?
***
The surgeon came. With an assistant. The girl exclaimed upon seeing my organ: "Wow!". She looked at my face:
— Young man, what, do you want to reduce it? Don't!
The surgeon smirked:
— No, he wants to enlarge it!
And got to work.
He tied something off, clamped something. Pulled, cut. No pain. Ticklish. He's having fun. Asks how I managed to get into such a mess. Well, I told him. From laughter, the surgeon dropped the scalpel on the floor. Took another one. Cleaned something there, poked around.
— Doctor, be careful—don't cut it all off! — I pleaded.
— Don't worry, if we cut it off—we'll sew it back on without leaving the cash register, so to speak.
The doctor starts telling jokes:
"A village guy is getting married. His father tells him: go, son, to the forest and practice on a tree hollow. The son practiced. Got married. On the first wedding night, he puts his wife in doggy style and gives a strong kick. She: what are you doing? And he answers: I'm smart now—first you need to chase out the wasps!"
The nurses are cracking up. Bitches! Time to stitch up. The surgeon starts telling me the story of how circumcision originated:
— Once, the long-suffering Abraham, the same one who, for the love of God, was ready to kill his son Isaac, received an order for a new sacrifice. But neither a son nor a ram was at hand. Then God said: cut something off yourself. Well, Abraham thought: an ear... a finger... a dick... He pulled it slightly and slashed with a stone knife on the living flesh, and his cry rang out, even the lions hid in fear. And Abraham threw a piece of flesh on the altar, cursing everything. God is pleased. The next day, Abraham shares his secret with a neighbor. The neighbor is delighted: what savings—a piece of skin instead of a ram. And the clatter of stone knives was heard, the Jewish land groaned, Semitic blood flowed—the Jews began to perform circumcision on themselves!
The surgeon finished his dark deed. Patched up my organ. My naked body was transferred to a gurney and wheeled to the ward. The doctor quipped:
— Now decide who you are: a Jew or a Muslim.
I thought: "Better—a Jew: I'll be richer!"
***
I hate wasps, I hate bees. Two months of terrible torment. Complete abstinence and suppression of my desires. Any erection is like torture. Bandaging-rebandaging, ointment and antiseptic. Good grief. Fuck! I look at my penis now and think. How beautiful it was before. And now I'm even ashamed to show it to girls. Two scars, a mark on the glans. Damn it! Guys! Don't piss, guys! Especially in bushes on wasps!
Alexice Schneider © 2003
alexiceschneider@rambler.ru