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Scar Tissue by Kelley A Pasmanick

Merry-go-round music played as I lay on the table, and before that, “Here she comes just-a-walkin’ down the street singin’ doo-a-didee, didee-dum didee-do” blared from the radio. My six-foot-five Mormon orthopedic surgeon was just beginning his pre-op jam session with my second surgeon Dr. Hutchins joining him. The anesthesia smelled like strawberries.
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