You doing all right?”

I guess,” I said. “I’m a lit­tle nervous.”

The nurse smiled. “You’ll be fine. We’re a well-​​funded insti­tu­tion, and we’re doing OK for technology.”

Somehow, for some rea­son, I was not reassured.

The mask was fixed on my face and I felt the cool injec­tion of anes­thet­ics into my IV line. “Breathe deeply,” the nurse said. “And relax.”

I nod­ded.

Someone else came in the room, a woman.

Hey,” she said. “I’m really lookin’ for­ward to workin’ on you, dont’cha know?”

I tried to sit up, but straps were hold­ing me down. I tore the mask away. “I don’t want HER work­ing on me! Find me my doc­tor! She has no clue what she’s doing!”

We like a fresh approach to prob­lems.” The nurse pushed me back on the bed. “This is your doc­tor. She’s got what it takes to fix every­thing that’s wrong with you.”

And how!” the woman said, paus­ing to put a wad of gum on her stethoscope.

Then I woke up, in a tub of ice, and my kid­neys were missing.

Some urban leg­ends ring far too true.


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