The Man with the Magic Hands.

I have magic hands.  I can't do "magic" of course but I'm one hell of a surgeon.  I've had patients, nurses, and peers say they are magic.  Let me tell you; getting a compliment out of a jealous surgeon is harder than doing a transplant.

When I was younger I was good with my hands; I could do puzzles and magic tricks with out a problem, I even saw a guy clap with one hand once and I figured out how he did it and did it myself.  When I went to med school I could do my studies and classes without a problem but I had no idea what field I wanted to get into.  Until I worked with a surgeon and had a blade in my hand.  My peers don't like that name, they'll call it a scalpel or even tool but they'll never be truthful like I am.  It's a blade and it makes my hands magic.

I can give life back to someone that had no future.  The hot sticky blood is flowing like a river of Merlot and I can cause life to go back into the patient.  I can give them a future.  And then I had that dream.  My hands are magic, what if I didn't give my patients life?  What would happen if I was cutting and the patient woke up?  Would I stop or would I continue?

My dream was about my magic hands and a patient that wasn't under and wasn't willing.  I couldn't see the patients face but I could see my perfect cuts.  I could hear my patient in my dream.  My patients' screams are what woke me up.  I was disgusted with myself, not because of the dream but because of how erect I was from the dream.

Now I wonder if I'm going to start hunting prostitutes like Jack the Ripper.  So far I've only cut animals but I wonder if that's how Jack started also.