Dr. Doctor (An Outlast Fanfic)

Three

Hospitals put Waylon on edge despite his desire to work in one. The surgery quad was peaceful with its creme colored walls and large cage of birds in the waiting room, but the actual rooms of operation were different.

"Tools, bed, and anything else one could need. The floor buffer is in the supply closet, but we only use it twice a week." Eddie was very professional in the way he spoke, though his words weren't very descriptive.

"Right.. Will I be cleaning today?" It was a genuine question, and the med student wasn't sure which answer he wanted more. Yes he was eager to do some work, but the talk with Manera had put him on edge. Eddie should've known not to bring him around Frank on his first day.

"No, that won't be necessary. But afterwards," he leads on, not really finishing his thought. Eddie goes over to the kart of tools, examining the supplies with a look of interest in his eyes. By now Waylon had figured out that the man didn't express much emotion through his facial expressions or tone of voice. Did he even show emotion in general? Maybe he would find out later. But for now, they had a patient on their way, and Waylon had to focus on his educational experience.

~~~

"Josh Taylor, thirty eight. Needs a gastric bypass." The worker reading off his information didn't sound the bit most excited, but Waylon's eyes lit up at the news. He was always watching health shows, and My 600 Pound Life was one of his favorites. So of course the teen was eager to watch a weight loss surgery.

"Hm, okay." Eddie didn't say much, his typical behavior, but he did step closer to examine the man. He was already unconcious, which Waylon found odd, but didn't dare question it. Eddie grabs a marker, making lines on the man's large gut. "Grab the ladle. Waylon, help me push his bed to the middle and get him up on the table." Gluskin speaks with a glint in his eyes, those pale orbs examining Waylon for what probably was the first time all day. The student grew red from the awkward stare.

Why have him help move a morbidly obese patient? Waylon could barely pick Miles up, and the guy wasn't even that heavy. Yeah, he was muscular, but it was lean. The point is that Waylon is extremely weak, and should've been the one to grab the ladle instead.

Eddie pushes the bed, the small wheels squeaking as they roll across the shiny linoleum floor. Waylon barely pulls, just focuses more on not getting his sneaker clad toes ran over.

"Here, by the side. Press the brake on the wheels so it won't move." Eddie already had his gloves on, and before touching the patient he pulls up his mask. Waylon does so also, and his foot stomps on the small button to keep the wheels from rolling. The bed creals, and shifts, and does everything but break as Eddie starts to move the unconcious man. Muscles rippled beneath navy blue scrubs, pale eyes narrowed, and sure as hell, Dr. Gluskin lifts up the five hundred pound patient all on his own.

Waylon gawks.

The patient is slid onto the metal table, and the assistant returns with a large metal soup spoon, watching Eddie move the patient with the same uninterested look. "Don't break the table. Jeremy's becoming Mr. Krabs from what I heard." The mans light eyes look dully at the patient, his stringy grey hair looking like wet thread on his shoulders. There was muscle tone to his body, but his skin appeared paper thin; like it could rip if he even flexed a finger. He helps maneuver the male so that he's in the center of the table. Sides had to be put up to increase the surface area of the metal slab, and Eddie and his assistant work around it with no difficulty.

"Horizontal incision on the frontal side, over the abdomen and stomach." Eddie pulls out a scalpel, tracing gently across the stretched skin. The grey haired man watches, the corners of his eyes crinkling, irises bright. Vibrant red spills slightly from the lines, a few drops rolling from the cut looking like fresh berries in the snow.

"Park, get him some more towels," he orders, to which the assistant quickly obliges. Looking around briefly, he spots the container of gauze-looking strips, and grabs them. They're cutting through the skin, fat, muscle. Mostly fat, from what Waylon observes, the yellowish blobby looking material being burnt through with a cauterizer. He quickly sets the pads on the tray, wanting to observe with undivided attention and bated breath.

Eddie spares the young man a quick glance, his surgical assistant dabbing at the now large incision, absorbing the slight moisture so Eddie can have better view and traction. "Look close. See all that adipose? It's crushing his organs. His liver is probably inflamed, and I bet you his stomach is double the size of his fist." The surgeon clenches his hand, the large fist emphasizing his statement. Waylon felt a shiver go down his back.

"We have to get all the way through, so we can insert a camera and the necessary tools. We have to cauterize to stop bleeding, yadda yadda yadda..." His fingers go into the slit in the flesh, spreading and making room, small amounts of blood leaking around it. The scene was a common practice, but for some reason it felt almost lewd. When Eddie's fingers are pulled out, a metal cord takes their place.

They go through with the procedure, making any cuts necessary, inserting the tools needed to reduce the size of the man's stomach. All the while the men are quiet, not even communicating for tools or anything. It was like they could read one another's thoughts, and it was mesmerizing to Waylon. It showed how great of a surgeon Eddie was, and how talented his assistant could be.

Some time goes by, and the young students eyes flicker between the monitor displaying the innards of the man and the actual operation itself. Waylon couldn't tell exactly what the camera was showing, but he did see another tool inside, like a clamp. They were stapling the stomach, it seemed. "Almost there, Tragger. Get the tray ready."

The balding man grabs a silver basin tray, and holds it close to the patient. Eddie works a few moments more, and eventually a fleshy sliver the size of a chicken breast is being pulled from one of the slits in the mans stomach. It's placed in the tray, and then set on the table.

"Mr. Park, feel free to examine. You have gloves, right?" Despite seeing so many videos and reading articles on the procedure, it was a different thing to experience entirely to see it in person. Waylon was almost scared to touch it. He'd touched animal organs, but never a human one. It seemed so strange, having something you need to survive laying in a metal pan, outside of your body. They only took a small portion, but it was still huge. The color was nondescript - looking pink and yellow all at once. The assistant hesitantly reaches in, surprized it was still pretty warm. Heavy, and somewhat firm. This part wasn't stapled shut, and he could see the lining and everything. Luckily the patient followed orders, and there was no food particles present.

Eddie watches fondly, his pale eyes barely crinkling as he observes. "Smells horrible, doesn't it? We'll have to dispose of it in biohazard once we finish." Waylon nods, lifting the partial organ out of the tray, testing the weight in his hands. It was pretty dense, and it was amazing how the body could support so many heavy things like it.

"How heavy do you think his entire stomach was?" If this was just a sliver, then his whole stomach must be huge. Eddie's eyes shine, and Waylon notices how they slightly squint as he smiles. "I'm not sure..." He ponders, eyes still staring into Waylon's as the student sets the organ back down.

"Let's find out."

SUPER SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING IN LIKE AGES. I have no motivation and I always have writers block. But a music video inspired me to write, so here I am. I'm actually getting a home! I just gotta set my room up, then maybe I'll be motivated to sit down and write. I currently sleep on a couch and I havent had my own home for a year. I'm happy about finally getting my own room and stuff.

Anywho, thanks for your patience. I'm hoping to update more. I really love this story (: