You're a surgeon.....right?, It's no longer an emergency, so he can't go to the ER. He has insurance, so they're not leaving him at Dr. Awesome's mercy either.

It had been well over two weeks since Charles E. Jones had last set....wheel anywhere near the Dental&Physical ward. But he was running out of time before a certain engagement arrived, and he needed to be able to walk on his own two feet. Or rather, foot and prosthetic.

He had heard that Dr. Holland was a surgeon, a dental one. But this was the dental and PHYSICAL ward, right? Since his was a physical problem but not of the life-threatening sort, he figgured that he might as well park it here and find out if he could get the port to his prothsetic grafted into his skin and nerves here.

The state of South Carolina wheeled himself into the ward and stopped right outside Holland's office, taking out a crutch to knock on the door with.

"Hello? Dr. Holland of whom I hope is in a good mood?" he called out tenatively.

The doctor looked to the door, he put down his pen and walked trough his office towards the door to greet the patient.

He opened one side of the double door and looked trough. "South Carolina, i was expecting you to show up here." He said opening the last door to let Jones in.

He walked back to his desk and looked over his remaining paperwork. "I supose you're here to reset your prosthetic?"

Charles nodded and took to his crutches to get through the narrow doorway, leaving the wheelchair parked outside.

"Yes sir. I've had the actual prosthetic sent here from one of my brothers outside of here, all I need now it to have the port attatched so I can fit and remove the artificial leg as needed."

He looked down at his sightly mangled looking stump. The last of the bandages needed for the re-injury of his leg had came off days ago, but to keep the raw skin and scars from showing he had taken to putting a cloth slip over his stump.

"I assume there may be some type of paper work I need'ta fill out?"

(Jones should be quite fat if he has trouble getting a wheelchair trough a double door... XP)

"With Dr. Cheapskate around you won't know anything BUT paperwork." He said reaching to a small pile. "Luckely i asked it before hand so i don't need to copy them again. Just fill in these and i'll get your leg back to normal." He said while walking back to the patient.

"Then again, in this case it would mean prosthetic." He said with a small smirk when he handed the papers.

(HA XD He's not fat though, he just has trouble manouvering wheelchairs, opting instead to just hobble around everywhere on one leg and crutches. He's not fat, he's just....solid. http://booboo-kitty-cat.deviantart.com/#/d48b00w)


Charles grinned slightly as he took the 'small' stack and began to work.

"This ought to be interesting though, re-opening the whole wound of the stump to graft the live tissues to the port." he shook his head. At least there would be anesthetic.

As quick as he could, he went through paper after paper, filling in what needed filling with a flourish.

He could definately write both neater and faster than he could talk, curse the southern drawl.

The doctor looked at the southern write his way trough the papers. "Eh, little question. Do you have the leg with you right now?"

"Sure do." he got up and stumbled back to his wheelchair, where the metal and alloy based prosthetic was strapped to the back.

"Here. I've got the port too." he grabbed the other nessesary part and managed to get back in without falling over.

"Right then, let me just take a look at this thing and prep it ready." The doctor said walking to the leg to recieve it.

After he had it in his hands he took a look over it. "Looks nifty, who made it again?"

"Custom made actually, my boss (state senator) always sets me up with the latest stuff my medical and engineering schools come out with. It's pretty durable, I did wear a weaker version of it, and it's withstood everything but what broke it and ripped it out of my leg in the first place. This one's stronger, so I'm eager to test it out."

He shook his head at the memory of when his old prosthetic broke and was ripped out. That and a certain mental problem that had already been fixed where the reasons he was in this loony bin in the first place.

"Durable i believe. But i find it kind of funny that there is a self-deconstruct button on a place you'll never reach if you'd be stuck..." He said as he looked to the detailed parts.

"Mhh, even with that minor inconvienience it's still quite good looking."

"Self deconstruct button?! Never seen THAT one before." he looked at the leg curiously.

"So, when do we get this show on the road?" he asked, wondering when his surgery was going to be.

"Yes yes i'll get busy once i know how to connect this leg properly." He said while he looked back at the leg.

"And the self-deconstruct button is there if you ever get stuck and need your leg freed. Once pressed the leg will seperate in severall parts so the user can escape and maybe pull out the parts he needs to walk with."

"Huh, sounds nifty." Well, that was good to know, but if any more alligators were chomping on his leg, he didn't think he would have enough time to press a button.

"As far as attatching goes, you just do this." he took out the port and leaned the part of the leg it would attatch to close so both could view.

Charles smiled as he quickly pointed out what plugged in where, and at what angle it went in.
"And that's the easy stuff I can do with my eyes closed. It's not the leg itself that I need attatched, I can do that sleeping. It's the port that it connects to that's the problem." he shivered a little. Out for the procedure or not, the thought of that hunk of metal grafted to his skin and live tissue always gave him the willies.

"Well i think i'll be able to help with that. Some years ago i atached a replacement arm to my- err, i forgot who it was but it was quite tricky at first. Now i know how to do it blindfolded." He said as he corrected himself to prevent suspicion.

"Well i think we're as good as ready, lets go to the operation room and get this thing atached. And i'm apologizing in advance, since i'm not allowed to use pain killing drugs."

OH.

No painkillers. Great.

South Carolina swallowed dryly before getting up and limping his way over to his chair, where he followed the doctor into the operation room.


No anesthetic.....dang, this was going to hurt more than the initial amputation, and that was back in 1863 with a rusty saw!

"Well....if I can't have drugs to numb me from the pain....would being knocked out for the operation work?" he REALLY didn't want to be awake while the scars and scabs had to be shaved off of his stump and the port attatched to the fresh wound and sealed there.