wheeled through the swinging doors and down

the corridor to operating room six. He was

lying flat on the gurney, and his gaze was fixed on the

ceiling; he had the glassy stare of a man in shock. I

was concerned that he had been given analgesia, but

the attendant assured me that he had not. As we were

talking, Mr Reagan turned his eyes to me: the pupils

were wide, dark as olives, and I recognized the dilation

of pain and fear. I felt sympathy, but more, I was

relieved that he had not inadvertently been narcotized,

for it would have delayed the operation for days.

I had yet to scrub and placed my hand on his shoulder

to acknowledge his courage. His skin was coarse

beneath the thin sheet that covered him, as the pili

erecti tried in vain to warm the chill we had induced.

He shivered, which was natural, though eventually it

would stop — it must — if we were to proceed with

the surgery. I removed my hand and bent to examine

the plastic bag that hung like a showy organ from the

side of the gurney. There was nearly a litre of pale

urine, which assured me that his kidneys were func-

tioning well.

I turned away, and entering the scrub room, once

more conceptualized our plan. There were three teams,

one for each pair of extremities and a third for torso

and viscera. I headed the latter, which was proper, as

the major responsibility for this project was mine. We

had chosen to avoid analgesia, the analeptic properties

of excruciating pain being well known. There are

several well-drawn studies that conclusively demon-

strate the superior survival of tissues thus exposed,

and I have cited these in a number of my own mono-

graphs. In addition, chlorinated hydrocarbons, which

still form the bulk of our anesthetics, are tissue-toxic

in extremely small quantities. Though these agents

clear rapidly in the normal course of post-operative

recovery, tissue propagation is too sensitive a pheno-

menon for us to have risked their use. The patient was

offered, routinely, the choice of an eastern mode of

anesthesia, but he demurred. Mr Reagan has an obdu-

rate faith in things American.

I set the timer above the sink and commenced to

scrub. Through the window I watched as the staff

went about the final preparations. Two large tables

stood along one wall, and on top of them sat the

numerous trays of instruments we would use during

the operation. Since this was the largest one of its kind

any of us at the center had participated in, I had been

generous in my estimation of what would be needed.

It is always best in such situations to err on the side of

caution, and so I had ordered duplicates of each pack

to be prepared and placed accessibly. Already an

enormous quantity of instruments lay unpacked on

the tables, divided into general areas of proximity.

Thus, urologic was placed beside rectal and lower

intestinal, and hepatic, splenic, and gastric were

grouped together. Thoracic was separate, and ortho-

pedic and vascular were divided into two groups for

those teams assigned to the extremities. There were

three sets of general instruments — hemostats, forceps,

scissors, and the like — and these were on smaller

trays that stood close to the operating table. Perched

above them, and sorting the instruments chronologic-

ally, were the scrub nurses, hooded, masked, and

gloved. Behind, and throughout the operating room

circulated other, non-sterile personnel; these were

principally nurses and technicians, who carefully

avoided the sterile field being constructed about the

perimeter of the operating table but otherwise roamed

freely, thus functioning as the extended arm of the

team.

For the dozenth time I scrubbed my cuticles and the

space between fingernail and fingertip, then scoured

both sides of my forearms to the elbow. The sheet had

been removed from Mr Reagan, and his ventral surface

— from neck to foot — was covered by the yellow suds

of antiseptic. His pubic parts, chest, and axilla, had

been shaved earlier, although he had no great plethora

28

of hair to begin with. The artificial light striking his

body at that moment recalled to me the jaundiced hue

I have seen at times on certain dysfunctional gall

bladders, and I looked at my own hands. They seemed

brighter, and I rinsed them several times, then backed

into the surgical suite.

A nurse approached with a towel, whose comer I

grabbed, proceeding to dry methodically each finger.

She returned with a glove, spreading the entrance

wide as one might the mouth of a fish in order to peer

down its throat. I thrust my fingers and thumb into it

and she snapped it upon my forearm. She repeated

the exchange with the other, and I thanked her, then

stood back and waited for the final preparations.

The soap had been removed from his skin, and now

Mr Reagan was being draped with various-sized linens.

Two of these were used to fashion a vertical barrier at

the mid-point of his neck; behind this, with his head,

sat the two anesthesiologists. Since no anesthetic was

to be used, their responsibility lay in monitoring his

respiratory and cardio-vascular status. He would be

intubated, and they would make periodic measure-

ments of the carbon dioxide and oxygen content of his

blood.

I gave them a nod and they inserted the intracath,

through which we would drip a standard, paralytic

dose of succinylcholine. We had briefly considered

doing without the drug, for its effect, albeit minimal,

would still be noticeable on the ablated tissues. Finally,

though, we had chosen to use it, reasoning — and

experience proved us correct — that we could not rely

on the paralysis of pain to immobilize the patient for

the duration of the surgery. If there had been a lull,

during which time he had chosen to move, hours of

careful work might have been destroyed. Prudence

dictated a conservative approach.

A fter initiating the paralytic, Dr Guevara, the

senior anesthesiologist, promptly inserted the

endotracheal tube. It passed easily for there

was little, if any, muscular resistance. The respirator

was turned on and artificial ventilation begun. I told

Mr Reagan, who would be conscious throughout, that

we were about to begin.

I stepped to the table and surveyed the body. The

chest was exposed, as were the two legs, above which

Drs Ng and Cochise were poised to begin.

“Scalpel,” I said, and the tool was slapped into my

palm. I transferred it to my other hand. “Forceps.”

I bent over the body, mentally drawing a line from

the sternal notch to the symphysis pubis. We had

studied our approaches for hours, for the incisions

were unique and had been used but rarely before. A

procedure of this scale required precision in every

detail in order that we preserve the maximal amount

of viable tissue. I lifted the scalpel and with a firm and

steady hand made the first cut.

He had been cooled in part to cause constriction of

the small dermal vessels, thus reducing the quantity

of blood lost to ooze. We were not, of course, able to

use the electric scalpel to cut or coagulate, nor could

we tie bleeding vessels, for both would inflict damage

to tissue. Within reason, we had chosen planes of

incision that avoided major dermal vasculature, and

as I re-traced my first cut, pressing harder to separate

the more stubborn fascial layers, I was re-assured by

29

paucity of blood that was appearing at the margins of

the wound. I exchanged my delicate tissue forceps for

a larger pair, everting the stratum of skin, fat, and

muscle, and continuing my incision until I reached

the costochondral junction in the chest and the linea

alba in the belly. I made two lateral incisions, one from

the pubis, along the inguinal ligament, ending near

the anterior superior iliac spine, and the other from

the sternal notch, along the inferior border of the clavicle

to the anterior edge of the axilla. There was more

blood appearing now, and for a moment I aided Dr

Biko in packing the wound. Much of our success at

controlling the bleeding depended, however, upon

the speed at which I carried out the next stage, and

with this in mind, I left him to mop the red fluid and

turned to the thorax.

Pectus hypertrophicus occurs perhaps in one in a

thousand; Billings, in a recent study of a dozen such

cases, links the condition to a congenital aberration of

the short arm of chromosome thirteen, and he postulates

a correlation between the hypertrophied sternum, a

marked preponderance of glabrous skin, and a mild

associative cortical defect. He has studied these cases;

I have not. Indeed, Mr Reagan’s sternum was only the

second in all my experience that would not yield to

the Lebsche knife. I asked for the bone snips, and with

the help of Dr Biko was finally able to split fire structure.

My forehead dripped from the effort, and a circulating

nurse dabbed it with a towel.

I applied the wide-armed retractor, and as I ratcheted

it apart, I felt a wince of resistance. I asked Dr Guevara

to increase the infusion of muscle relaxant, for we

were entering a most crucial part of the operation.

“His pupils are fixed and dilated,” he announced.

I could see his heart, and it was beating normally.

“His gases?” I asked.

“O 2 85, CO 2 , pH 7.37.”

“Good,” I said. “It’s just agony then. Not death.”

D r Geuvara nodded above the barrier that separated

us, and as he bent to whisper words of encourage-

ment to Mr Reagan, I looked into the chest.

There I paused, as I always seem to do at the sight of

that glistening organ. It throbbed and rolled, sensu-

ously, I thought, majestically, and I renewed my vows

to treat it kindly. With the tissue forceps I lifted the

pericardium and with the curved scissors punctured

it. It peeled off smoothly, reminding me fleetingly of

the delicate skin that encloses the tip of the male

child’s penis.

In rapid succession I ligated vena cava and cross-

clamped the descending aorta, just distal to the bron-

chial arteries. We had decided not to use our bypass

system, thus obviating cannulations that would have

required lengthy and meticulous suturing. We had

opted instead for a complete de-vascularization distal

to the thoracic cavity, reasoning that since all the

organs and other structures were to be removed anyway,

there was no sense in preserving circulation below the

heart. I signalled to my colleagues waiting at the lower

extremities to begin their dissections.

I isolated the right subclavian artery and vein, ligated

them, and did the same on the left. I anastomosed the

internal thoracic artery to the ventral surface of the

aortic arch, thus providing arterial flow to the chest

wall, which we planned to preserve more or less intact.

I returned to the descending aorta, choosing 3-0 Ethilon

to assure occlusion of the lumen, and oversewed twice.

I released the clamp slowly: there was no leakage, and

I breathed a sigh of satisfaction. We had completed a

crucial stage, isolating the thoracic and cephalic

circulation from that of the rest of the body, and the

patient’s condition remained stable. What was left

was the harvesting of his parts.

I would like to insert here a word on our behalf, our

in the larger sense of not just the surgical team but the

full technical and administrative apparatus. We had

early on agreed that we must approach the dissection

assiduously, meaning that in every case we would

apply a greater, rather than a lesser, degree of scrupu-

lousness. At the time of the operation no use — other

than in transplantation — had been found for many of

the organs we were to resect. Such parts as colon,

spleen, and vasculature had not then, nor have they

yet, struck utilitarian chords in our imaginations.

Surely, they will in the future, and with this as our

philosophy we determined to discard not even the

most seemingly insignificant part. What could not

immediately be utilized would be preserved in our

banks, waiting for a bright idea to send it to the regen-

eration tanks.

It was for this reason, and this reason alone, that the

operation lasted as long as it did. I would be lying if I

claimed that Mr Reagan was not in constant and excru-

ciating pain. Who would not be to have his skin

fileted, his chest cracked, his limbs meticulously

dissected and dismembered? In retrospect, I should

have carried out a high transection of the spinal cord,

thus interrupting most of the nerve fibers to his brain,

but I did not think of it beforehand and during the

operation was too occupied with other concerns. That

he did survive is a testimony to his strength, though I

still remember his post-operative shrieks and protes-

tations. We had, of course, already detached his upper

limbs, and therefore we ourselves had to dab the

streams of tears that flowed from his eyes. At that

point, there being no further danger of tissue damage,

I did order an analgesic.

After I had successfully completed the de-vascu-

larization procedure, thus removing the risk of life-

threatening hemorrhage from our fields, I returned to

the outer layer of thorax and abdomen. With an Adson

forceps I gently retracted the thin sheet of dermis and

began to undermine with the scalpel. It was pains-

taking, but after much time I finally had the entire

area freed. It hung limp, drooping like a dewlap, and

as I began the final axillary cut that would release it

completely, I asked Ms Narciso, my scrub nurse, to

call the technician. He came just as I finished, and I

handed him the skin.

I confess that I have less than a full understanding

of the technology of organ variation and regenera-

tion. I am a surgeon, not a technologist, and devote

the major part of my energies toward refinement and

perfection of operative skills. We do, however, live in

an age of great scientific achievement, and the icono-

clasm of many of my younger colleagues has forced

me to cast my gaze more broadly afield. Thus it is that

I am not a complete stranger to inductive mitotics and

controlled oncogenesis, and I will attempt to convey

the fundamentals.

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it to the appropriate room wherein lie the thermo-

magnetic protein baths. These are organ specific,

distinguished by temperature, pH, magnetic field, and

substrate, and designed to suppress cellular activity;

specifically, they prolong dormancy at the Gl stage of

mitosis. The magnetic field is altered then, such that

each cell will arrange itself ninety degrees to it. A

concentrated solution of isotonic nucleic and amino

acids is then pumped into the tank, and the bath

mechanically agitated to diffuse the solute. Several

hours are allowed to pass, and the magnetic field is

again shifted, attempting to align it with the nucleic

loci that govern the latter stages of mitosis. If this is

successful, and success is immediately apparent for

failure induces rapid and massive necrosis, the organ

system will begin to reproduce. This is a macroscopic

phenomenon, obvious to the naked eye. I have been

present at this critical moment, and it is a simple, yet

wondrous, thing to behold.

Different organs regenerate, multiply, in distinctive

fashion. In the case of the skin, genesis occurs quite

like the polymerization of synthetic fibers, such as

nylon and its congeners. The testes grow in a more

sequential manner, analogous perhaps to the clustering

of grapes along the vine. Muscles seem to laminate,

forming thicker and thicker sheets until, if not sepa-

rated, they collapse upon themselves. Bone propagates

as tubules; ligaments, as lianoid strands of great length.

All distinct, yet all variations on a theme.

In the case of our own patient, the outcome, I am

pleased to report, was bounteous; this was especially

gratifying in the light of our guarded prognostica-

tions. I was not alone in the skepticism with which I

approached the operation, for the tissues and regen-

erative capacity of an old man are not those of a

youngster. During the surgery, when I noticed the

friability and general degree of degeneration of his

organs, my thoughts were inclined rather pessimistic-

ally. I remember wondering, as Dr Cochise severed the

humeral head from the glenoid fossa, inadvertantly

crushing a quantity of porotic and fragile bone, if our

scrupulous planning had not, perhaps, been a waste of

effort, that the fruits of our labor would not be commen-

surate with our toil. Even now, with the benefit of

hindsight, I remain astonished at our degree of success.

As much as it is a credit, I believe, to the work of our

surgical team, it is, perhaps more so, a tribute to the

resilience and fundamental vitality of the human body.

A fter releasing the dermal layer as described, I

proceeded to detach the muscles. The adipose

tissue, so slippery and difficult to manipulate,

would be removed chemically, thus saving valuable

time. As I have mentioned, the risk of hemorrhage —

and its threat to Mr Reagan’s life — had been eliminated,

but because of the resultant interruption of circulation

we were faced with the real possibility of massive

tissue necrosis. For this reason we were required to

move most expeditiously.

With sweeping, but well guided, strokes of the scalpel

I transected the ligamentous origins of Pectoralis Major

and Minor, and Serratus Anterior. I located their points

of insertion on the scrapula and humerus and severed

them as well, indicating to Ms Narciso that we would

need the technician responsible for the muscles. She

replied that he had already been summoned by Dr Ng,

and I took that moment to peer in his vicinity.

He and Dr Cochise had been working rapidly, already

having completed the spiraling circumferential inci-

sions from groin to toe, thus allowing, in a fashion

similar to the peeling of an orange, the removal in toto

of the dermal sheath of the leg. The anterior femoral

and pelvic musculature had been exposed, and I could

see the Sartorius and at least two of the Quadriceps

heads dangling. This was good work and I nodded

appreciatively, then turned my attention to the abdo-

minal wall.

In terms of time the abdominal muscles presented

less of a problem than the thoracic ones, for there

were no ribs to contend with. In addition, as long as I

was careful not to puncture the viscera, I could enter

the peritoneum almost recklessly. I took my scalpel

and thrust it upon the xiphoid, near what laymen call

the solar plexus, and started the long and penetrating

incision down the linea alba, past the umbilicus, to

the symphysis pubis. With one hand I lifted the margin

of the wound, and with the other delicately sliced the

peritoneal membrane. I reflected all the abdominal

muscles, the Rectus and Transversus Abdominis, the

Obliquus Intemus and Extemus, and detached them

from their bony insertions. Grasping the peritoneum

with a long-toothed forceps and peeling it back, I

placed two large towel clips in the overlying muscle

mass, and then, as an iceman would pick up a block of

ice, lifted it above the table, passing it into the hands

of the waiting technician. Another was there for the

thoracic musculature, and once these were cleared

from the table, I turned to the abdominal contents

themselves.

L et me interject a note as to the status of our patient

, at that time. As deeply as I become involved in

the techniques and mechanics of any surgery, I

am always, with another part of my mind, aware of

the human being who lies at the mercy of the knife. At

this juncture in our operation I noticed, by the flaccidity

in the muscles on the other half of the abdomen, that

the patient was perhaps too deeply relaxed. Always

there is a tension in the muscles, and this must be

mollified sufficiently to allow the surgeon to operate

without undue resistance, but not so much that it

endangers the life of the patient. In this case I noted

little, if any, resistance, and I asked Dr Guevara to

reduce slightly the rate of infusion of the relaxant.

This affected all the muscles, including, of course, the

diaphragm and those of the larynx, and Mr Reagan

took the opportunity to attempt to vocalize. Being

intubated, he was in no position to do so, yet somehow

managed to produce a keening sound that unnerved

us all. His face, as reported by Dr Guevara, became

constricted in a horrible rictus, and his eyes seemed

to convulse in their sockets. Clearly, he was in excru-

ciating pain, and my heart flew to him as to a valiant

soldier.

The agony, I am certain, was not simply corporeal;

surely there was a psychological aspect to it, perhaps

a psychosis, as he thought upon the systematic dis-

section and dismemberment of his manifest self. To

me, I know it would have been unbearable, and once

again I was humbled by his courage and fortitude.

And yet there was still so much left to do; neither

32

empathy nor despair were distractions we could afford.

Accordingly, I asked Dr Guevara to increase the infusion

rate in order to still Mr Reagan’s cries, and this achieved,

I returned my concentration to the table.

By pre-arrangement Dr Biko now moved to the oppo-

site side of the patient and began to duplicate there

what I had just finished on mine. The sole modification

was that he began on the belly wall and proceeded in a

cephalad direction, so that by the time I had extirpated

the contents of one half of the abdomen, the other

would be exposed and ready. With alacrity I began the

evisceration.

I t would be tedious to chronicle step by step the

various dissections, ligations, and severances;

these are detailed in a separate monograph, whose

reference can be found in the bibliography. Suffice it

to say that I identified the organs and proceeded with

the resections as we had planned. Once freeing the

stomach, I was able to remove the spleen and pancreas

without much delay; because of their combined mass,

the liver and gall bladder required more time but

eventually came out quite nicely. I reflected the proxi-

mal small and large intestines downward in order to

lay bare the deeper recesses of the upper abdominal

cavity and to have access to the kidneys and adrenals. I

treated gland and organ as a unit, removing each pair

together, transecting the ureters high, near the renal

pelvices. The big abdominal vessles, vena cava and

aorta, were now exposed, and I had to withstand the

urge to include them in my dissection. We had previ-

ously agreed that this part of the procedure would be

assumed by Dr Biko, who is as skilled and renowned a

vascular surgeon as I am an abdomino-thoracic one,

and though they lay temptingly now within my reach,

I resisted the lure and turned to accomplish the extirpa-

tion of the alimentary tract.

We did not, as many had urged, remove the cavitous

segment of the digestive apparatus as a whole. After

consultation with our technical staff we determined

that it would be more practical — successful — if we

proceeded segmentally. Thus, we divided the tract

into three parts: stomach, including the esophageal

segment just distal to the diaphragm; small intestine,

from pylorus to ileo-cecal valve; and colon, from cecum

to anus. These were dutifully resected and sent to the

holding banks, where they await future purpose and

need.

As I harvested the internal abdominal musculature,

the Psoas, Iliacus, Quadratus Lumborum, I let my mind

wander for a few moments. We were nearing the end

of the operation, and I felt the luxury of certain philo-

sophical meditations. I thought about the people of

the world, the hungry, the cold, those without shelter

or goods to meet the exigencies of daily life. What are

our responsibilities to them, we the educated, the

skilled, the possessors? It is said, and I believe, that no

man stands above any other; what then can one person

do for the many? Listen, I suppose. Change.

I have found in my profession, as I am certain exists

in all others, that to not adapt is to become obsolete.

There are many I have known, many of my colleagues,

who, unwilling or unable to grapple with innovation,

have gone the way of the penny. Tenacity, in some an

admirable quality, is no substitute for the ability to change, for what in one age might be considered tena-

cious in another would most certainly be called

cowardly. I thought upon our patient, whose fortunes

had so altered since the years of my training, and

considered further the question of justice. Could an

act of great altruism, albeit forced and involuntary,

balance a generation of infamy? How does the dedica-

tion of one’s own body to the masses weigh upon the

scales of sin and repentance?

My brow furrowed, for these questions were far

more difficult to me than the operation itself, and had

it not been for Ms Narciso, who spoke up in a timely

voice, I might have broken the sterile field by wiping

with my own hand the perspiration on my forehead.

“Shall we move to the pelvis, Doctor?” she said,

breaking my reverie.

“Yes,” I countered, turning momentarily from the

table to recover, while a nurse mopped the moist skin

of my face.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5297494&forum_id=2#45984424)

by the catheter that had been passed prior to

surgery, and once I pierced the floor of the peri-

toneum, it lay beneath my blade like a flat and flaccid

tire. I severed it quickly, taking care to include the

prostate, seminal vesicles, ureters, and membranous

urethra in the resection. A technician carried these to

an intermediate room, where a surgeon was standing

by to separate the structures before they were taken to

their respective tanks. What remained was to take the

penis, which was relatively simple, and testes, which

required more care so as not to disrupt the delicate

tumica that surrounded them. This done, I straightened

33

my back for perhaps the first time since we began and

assessed our progress.

When one becomes so engrossed in a task, so keyed

and focused that huge chunks of time pass unaware, it

is a jarring feeling, akin to waking from a vivid and

lifelike dream, to return to reality. I have felt this

frequently during surgeries, but never as I did this

time. Hours had passed, personnel had changed,

perhaps even the moon outside had risen, in a span

that for me was marked in moments. I looked for Drs

Ng and Cochise and was informed that they had left

the surgical suite some time ago; I recalled this only

dimly, but when I looked to their work was pleased to

find that it had been performed most adequately. All

limbs were gone, and the glenoid fossae, where the

shoulders had been de-articulated, were sealed as we

had discussed. Across from me Dr Biko was just

completing the abdominal vascular work. I nodded to

myself, and using an interior approach, detached the

muscles of the lumbar spine, then asked for the bone

saw.

We transected the spinal cord between the second

and third lumbar vertebrae, thus preserving the major

portion of. attachments of the diaphragm. This, of course, was vital, if, as we had planned, Mr Reagan

was to retain the ability to respire. It is well-known

that those who leave surgery still attached to the

respirator, which surely would have been the case if

we had been sloppy in this last part of the operation,

do poorly thereafter, often dying in the immediate

post-operative period. In this case especially, such an

outcome would have been particularly heinous, for it

would have deprived this brave man of the fate and

rewards most deservedly his.

I am nearing the conclusion of our report, and it

must be obvious that I have failed to include each and

every nerve, ligament, muscle, and vessel that we

removed; if it seems a critical error, I can only say that

it is a purposeful one, intended to improve the read-

ability of this document. Hopefully, I have made it

more accessible to the lay that exist outside the cloister

of our medical world, but those who crave more detailed

information I refer to the Archives of Ablative Tech-

nique, vol. 113, number 6, pp. 67-104, or, indeed, to

any comprehensive atlas of anatomy.

W e sealed the chest wall and sub-diaphragmatic

area with a synthetic polymer (XRO 137, by

Dow) that is thin but surprisingly durable and

impervious to bacterial invasion. We did a towel count

to make certain that none were inadvertently left inside

the patient, though at that point there was little of him

that could escape our attention, then Dr Guevara

inserted the jugular catheter that would be used for

nourishment and medication. Dr Biko fashioned a neat

little fistula from the right external carotid artery, which,

because we had taken the kidneys, would be used for

dialysis. These completed, we did a final blood gas

and vital sign check, each of which was acceptable,

and I stepped back from the table.

“Thank you all very much,” I said, and turned to Mr

Reagan as I peeled back my gloves. He was beginning

to recover from the drug-induced paralysis, and his

face seemed to recoil from mine as I bent toward him. I

have seen this before in surgery, where the strange

apparel, the hooded and masked faces, often cause

fright in a patient. It is especially common in the

immediate post-operative period, when unusual bodily

sensations and a frequently marked mental disorienta-

tion play such large roles. I was therefore not alarmed

to see our patient’s features contort as I drew near.

“It is over,” I said gently, keeping my words simple

and clear. “It went well. We will take the tube from

your mouth, but don’t try to talk. Your throat will be

quite sore for awhile, and it will hurt.”

I placed a hand on his cheek, which felt clammy

even though the skin was flushed, and Dr Guevara

withdrew the tube. By that time the muscle relaxant

had worn off completely, and Mr Reagan responded

superbly by beginning to breathe on his own immedi-

ately. Shortly thereafter, he began to shriek.

There are some surgeons I know, and many other

physicians, who believe in some arcane manner in the

strengthening properties of pain. They assert that it

fortifies the organism, steeling it, as it were, to the

insults of disease. Earlier, I mentioned the positive

association between pain and tissue survival, but this

obtains solely with respect to ablative surgery. It has

not been demonstrated under myriad other circum-

34

stances, and this despite literally hundreds of studies

to prove it so. The only possible conclusion, the only

scientific one, is that pain, apart from its value as a

mechanism of warning, has none of those attributes

the algophilists ascribe to it. In my mind these practi-

tioners are reprehensible moralists and should be barred

from those specialties, such as surgery, where the

problem is ubiquitous.

Needless to say, as soon as Mr Reagan began to cry, I

ordered a potent and long-lasting analgesic. For the

first time since we began his face quieted and his eyes

closed, and though I never questioned him on it, I like

to think that his dreams were sweet and proud at what

he, one man, had been able to offer thousands.

Save for the appendix, this is the whole of my

report. Once again I apologize for omissions and refer

the interested reader to the ample bibliography. We

have demonstrated, I believe, the viability of extensive

tissue ablation and its value in providing substrate for

inductive and variant mitotics. Although it is an

arduous undertaking, I believe it holds promise for

selected patients in the future.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5297494&forum_id=2#45984432)

As of the writing of this document, the following items and respective quantities have been produced by

regeneration systems:

Item

Source

Quantity

Oil, refined

Testes: seminiferous tubules

3761 liters

Perfumes and scents

Same

162 grams

Meat, including patties, filets, and

ground round

Muscles

13,318 kilograms

Storage jugs

Bladder

2732

Balls, inflatable (recreational use)

Same

325

Cord, multi-purposed

Ligaments

1.2 kilometers

Roofing material, e.g. for tents;

flexible siding

Skin: full thickness

3.6 sq. kilometers

Prophylactics

Skin: stratum granulosum

18,763 cartons of 10 each

Various enzymes, medications,

hormones

Pancreas

Adrenal Glands

Hepatic Tissue

272 grams

Flexible struts and housing supports

Bone

453 sq. meters

The vast majority of these have been distributed, principally to countries of the third world, but also to

impoverished areas of our own nation. A follow-up study to update our data and provide a geographical

breakdown by item will be conducted within the year.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5297494&forum_id=2#45984435)