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The Night I Performed Surgery in the Frat House

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This night began like any other. The sun slowly fell beneath the horizon and it became dark, just as it had every day since the Earth was formed. Typical pregaming activities began like any other night — beers were consumed, liquor was poured, and a lucky few got laid. However, the night would soon take a morbid turn. Our plan was to move from the pregame to the bars around midnight, but our overeager social chair had a different idea. He managed to divert a few funds from last week’s philanthropy event into the social budget and decided to order enough alcohol to make this a full blown party at the house. By 12:15 the house was jam packed with sorority women and scantly clad freshmen, eager to pop their frat house cherries.

The party went on like any other and it was beginning to seem like a great night, when out of nowhere, a shrill scream was heard from the second floor. This was no ordinary scream; it sounded like a banshee had a white hot curling iron shoved up its ass. It echoed a sense of frightened urgency that I had not yet heard within the walls of the fraternity house. I rushed upstairs to the scene and saw something that will be etched in my mind forever.

My friend had been in his room with a young lady, doing what young men and women are wont to do when they’re full of booze but have zero fucks to give, save for one, to each other. Regardless, she had been leaning up against a window and he was facing it with his two hands pushing against the glass. Suddenly, the glass could no longer hold back the furious energy that was being thrust against it and gave way, forcing my friend’s hand through the glass and slicing his wrist in the process. Thankfully he missed the ulner artery by about a centimeter, which would have caused massive blood loss and probable death. Unfortunately, he cut about an inch deep and his bone was visible. The windowsill, floor, and sorostie were all covered in his blood, and they were both still completely naked.

“JESUS CHRIST THAT’S THE WORST PERIOD I’VE EVER SEEN!!” I proclaimed, not immediately realizing what had happened. After figuring out what had I actually happened, I said, “This isn’t good, we should get you to a hospital. Put some pants on.”

“I can’t man,” he replied, shaking in fear and pulling up his pants as the girl quickly wiped off the blood and put her underwear and shirt back on. “I had to go last month when I fell down the stairs and my parents will kill me if they have to pay for another ambulance and hospital bill. Is there anything else we can do?”

Blood continued to rush from his wrist and collect in a pool on the floor. The girl was as white as the half blown mound of coke on the table. I knew that since the other half of that coke was coursing threw my friend’s body right now, his heart was beating twice as fast as normal, thus pumping out twice as much blood. I had to think fast. Thankfully, I was trained for a situation such as this. Despite what you may have thought, I am not your typical fraternity man, I am Pre-Med. I’m not the brother my friend deserved, but the brother he needed.

“Pledges!!!” I screamed, right before three of them quickly rushed into the room. I would need a whole team behind me if this was going to be a successful surgery.

“One of you grab something elastic that I can tie to use as a tourniquet. You other two, grab me a bottle of whiskey from downstairs, a bunch of towels, and the first aid kit out of my room.”

“Is the whiskey to disinfect the wound cause it has alcohol in it? Like in the movies?” asked a pledge.

“No, you fucking idiot! That’s what the Neosporin in the first aid kit is for!!! The whiskey is to steady my hands. Run! We’re losing time!!”

I yanked the mattress off his loft and set it on the floor, then had my friend lay down on it while holding his arm up high. He was beginning to drift out of consciousness and his heart rate had slowed down. I needed to stop the hemorrhaging fast. The pledge handed me some croakies to act as a tourniquet. This surgery was going to be FaF…or manslaughter. I tied it just beneath the elbow and the bleeding began to slow down immensely. I then wiped off his arm and pushed down on the wound with the girl’s shirt. She was now completely naked again, and I had to fight off arousal. This was no time to show off how much blood I still had in my body, what with my brother bleeding out and all, so I shoved her out into the hallway.

I cleaned the wound out and closed it off with the suture kit. By this point the bleeding had stopped and my friend had regained his composure. I took a celebratory swig of that whiskey and told the pledges to watch him throughout the night and clean up the mess.

I stumbled out of the room and back into mine to reflect on the night. Did I do the right thing by saving my friends life? Clearly not, anyone with half a brain would have refused his pleas and called an ambulance. But I didn’t have half a brain, I had a full brain full of pre-medical knowledge, and it all turned out okay. In the life of a Frat Doctor, there are no regrets.

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