Date: Sat, 30 Oct 1999 01:58:14 -0400
From: Charlie <charlieje@mindspring.com>
Subject: Andy-13 (Young-Friends)

             XIII Charlie's Surgery

"Come on boys," Dennis said to two naked sleeping boys, "Time to get up.
You've got a big day today." He noticed that they were naked; he noticed
that the bed was soaked; but more than either of those, he noticed how
they were all curled up together, oblivious to the world. His chest swelled
with pride at the thought of having not one son, but two. For reasons he
could never explain even to himself, what they had obviously done last
night didn't bother him in the least. In fact he was pleased in a way,
knowing (or at least thinking he knew) that Charlie would be incapable of
sexual activity after today. At least he'd experienced it a couple of times,
even if it was with another boy.

"You ok bud?" Andy questioned as Charlie came out of the shower.
"Yeah, I'm fine. A little nervous maybe, but I'm ok."
"What about last night? You ok with that? I mean..."
"Yeah, man. It was great! We gotta do that again!"
"We don't have time, Charlie. We're already running late."
"I didn't mean now. I meant after all this stuff with the hospital is over."
"But Charlie... After today..."
"You think I won't be able any more, don't ya?"
"Of course I do! You said yourself, you're gonna be a..."
"A eunuch. A castrato! But I'll still be able to do some things. Here, I'll
show you."

Charlie pulled a book out of his bedside stand. It was dog eared and worn,
indicating that he'd read it, studied it, devoured it. "It's a story about an
Italian boy who got castrated against his will. The lady who wrote it did
lots of research, and it's supposed to be historically accurate. The story
itself is fiction, but the facts are real.

"This guy wound up in a conservatorio with a whole bunch of other
castrati boys where he learned to sing. He had boy friends and girl friends
both, and he... uh... did things with them. So ya see, it is still possible."
"Where'd you get that?" Andy asked.
"I ordered it off the Internet. Dad lets me use his credit card to order
books, long as I don't overdo it."
"Amazing!" Andy mused as he flipped the pages, reading passages here
and there. "Can I read it?"
"You want to?"
"Yeah man. If I can learn a little about what you're gonna be like, I really
want to."
"Cool, man, I'd like that."
"Hurry up boys!" Karen's voice came through the closed door, "We're
gonna be late."

Before Charlie was really ready, in fact long before he was ready, he was
getting undressed again and climbing on a hospital Gurney. In spite of his
research, his confidence that all would be ok, he was becoming
increasingly nervous and ill at ease. In too short a time, it seemed, he was
wearing nothing but a hospital gown and lying flat. A nurse busied herself
taking temperature, blood pressure, pulse, and all the other vital signs.

"We're gonna have to put a catheter in," she announced, "because with
your incontinence, we don't want any accidents. Could you folks please
wait outside for a few minutes?"
"Don't go..." Charlie said weakly, "Please?" Charlie was once more a
defenseless little boy. The nurse, who was a gospel music fan and
therefore knew Charlie, had seen him in better times, allowed the family to
stay. "I'll give you your first local now," she said, "So when I put the
catheter in it won't be so unpleasant."

Finally, the local had been given and the catheter put in place, and Charlie
was lying comfortably, but getting more nervous by the minute. "I really
think you should let us put you to sleep." the kindly nurse said, "You're a
nervous wreck!"
"I'll be ok." Charlie insisted.
"Then let me give you a shot to relax you, ok?"
"A shot? Shot of what?"
"A very light dose of demerol. It'll make you more comfortable, but you'll
still know everything that's going on."
"It won't make me sleep?"
"I promise, Charlie." For reasons Charlie didn't understand, he trusted her
where he didn't trust anyone else in this foreign place. So for her, and
accepting her word, he accepted the shot. Before long he was more relaxed
than any of his family.

By the time Charlie was wheeled into the OR, everyone was on edge.
Dennis had made them re-do the permission slip because, he said, it had
given carte blanche license to remove any and all parts deemed necessary.
They had tried to assure him that it was just a standard form, but Dennis
simply said "That might be a standard form, but Charlie is not your
standard boy." They protested, but they re-did the form. Doctor Fisher, it
turned out, was much more kind and considerate than anyone had
expected.

In the OR, Charlie was mortified as they positioned him, bare from the
waist down, on the table, his legs in stirrups, and a bright light shining on
his genitals for all the world to see. His catheterized penis was taped
firmly to his belly, then finally a large green sheet was draped over him.
That didn't help much, he thought, because there was a large hole in the
sheet exposing the very area he'd rather have had hidden. He'd been told
what to expect, but hearing a description and actually experiencing it were
two very different things. Finally he was prepared, jolted out of his reverie
by Dr. Fisher's voice: "Are you ready, Charlie?"

Charlie wasn't ready at all! His heart was pounding in spite of the narcotic
he'd had. He wasn't ready for this at all! But he nodded and braced
himself for the onslaught to come. "I'm going to give you another
injection of local anaesthetic," Doc Fisher explained, "After that you
won't feel any pain at all."
"I don't even feel the needle." Charlie remarked.
"That's good. It means that the previous shots you got have not worn off.
As I work, please let me know if you feel anything, ok? There's no need to
hurt you."
"Thanks, doctor." Dennis said on Charlie's behalf.

"First," the doctor explained as he asked for various instruments, "I'm
going to do a needle biopsy. I'll stick a tiny needle in various places where
I think the cancer is most likely to be, then take out a very small sample of
tissue. When we analyze these samples we'll know for sure. Ready?"
"Yes sir. Only can I have my head raised a little so I can see?"
"You WANT to see? You sure it won't make you sick?"
"No sir, I won't be sick."
"He's very curious about everything." Dennis explained, "I think he'll be
more comfortable if he can see what you're doing."

When a pillow had been placed under Charlie's head, he watched in total
fascination as a hypodermic looking thing was stuck directly into one
testicle, then the other, and small bloody looking samples were extracted.
He could feel himself being manipulated, but there was no pain; just a
vague awareness that he was being touched. "Now we wait." the doctor
remarked. "It'll take about fifteen minutes for the results to come back."

"Andy?" Charlie said when the doctor was called out of the room. He told
them it was most likely the results, and he would be back in a minute or
two.
"Right here, Charlie." Andy answered. Charlie stuck a white, shaking hand
from under the drapes that covered him. Andy took it in his and Charlie
squeezed hard. "Don't leave me, Andy!" he pleaded.
"Don't worry, lil bro. I'll never leave you!"
"I mean don't EVER leave me! Please? Even if they have to... you know."
"That's what I meant, Charlie. I'll never leave you!"

Karen looked at Dennis, and Dennis shrugged back. She was having a
more or less difficult time accepting the whole process, and the growing
evidence that Charlie and Andy were becoming lovers wasn't helping.
Dennis had never told her or anyone else for that matter, but he'd faced
this possibility and dealt with it when Charlie was very small. He didn't
know why, but he'd always suspected.

"I'm afraid we'll have to finish the job." the doctor said as he re-entered
the room, "The results were positive, on both sides. This'll start to get a
little bloody now." he said, "Are you sure you want to watch?"
"Yes sir. Please?"
"How about you, Andy? Are you gonna be all right?"
"Yes sir." said a shaky voice.
"We can give you something to relax you if you like?"
"No thanks, I'll be fine."
"I guess this is it!" Charlie said to no one in particular. No one answered.
No one knew what to say, especially when they saw the tears appear in
Charlie's eyes, in spite of his efforts to hide them. Karen started to cry.
"Stay with him, Andy." Dennis said softly, and he led his wife out of the
OR.

Doctor Fisher had by now begun to understand just how curious Charlie
was, how academically interested in the procedure being performed on
him. With that in mind, he explained every step of the procedure from the
first incision, to the final cauterizing and suturing. He also prattled on
about how lucky Charlie was that they'd found the cancer before his
hormones had spread it all over his body, that he'd discover in time that he
really didn't need his balls to live a full and happy life. Charlie and Andy
both saw through the talk; it was obvious to both of them that Charlie
knew more from his research on the subject than the doctor would ever
know. But at least he cared enough, they thought, to do what he could to
defuse what was generally considered to be a disaster to a young boy.

When the first small organ was exposed, Dr. Fisher raised his eyebrows
and looked Charlie in the eye. "There's a lot of evidence of trauma here!"
he exclaimed, "Did you have some sort of accident"
"Trauma?" Charlie questioned.
"Damage." the doctor explained. "There is a lot of scar tissue, as if it has
been hit or pinched, or something."
"Oh that!" Charlie said. "I didn't think it mattered."
"What mattered?" Karen asked. Charlie looked around sharply, not aware
that his parents had come back. "What mattered, Charlie?" she repeated.
"What happened?"
"Well," he said to the doctor, "My brother used to love kicking me, hitting
me, there. He would laugh and make fun when he kicked me and I would
double over and start to cry. But I never thought..."

"Jesus Christ!" Charlie heard his father say, "He did that to you?
Repeatedly? Why didn't you tell us, Charlie?"
"I didn't think it was important, Dad. And he was always telling me what a
wimp I was, what a momma's boy. I didn't want to make him mad 'cause
when he got mad then I really got it!"

All eyes were suddenly on Andy. He didn't catch on at first, but then he
actually felt the heat of scornful stares. Fortunately Charlie noticed it too
and realized what he'd said. "Not Andy," he said quickly, "Andy would
never hurt me! Never!"
"I'm afraid I'm confused." the doctor commented.
"It's simple," Dennis explained, "We had two sons, Garth and Charlie.
Garth was totally out of control, and we don't know why. Eventually Garth
left home when he was 14. We are in the process of adopting Andy.
Charlie's right, Andy would never hurt him, or any of us for that matter."
"I see." the doctor said, "Well, if you ever see Garth again, you can thank
him for me for causing this whole thing. It's a well known fact that trauma
to tissue lays out the red carpet for cancer cells. And there's lots of trauma
here."

Things got pretty quiet after that discussion. The job was half done; one of
the two organs had been removed and placed in a small stainless steel
bowl, headed for the lab and a thorough analysis. Finally Charlie watched
as the doctor held the second tiny sphere in his hand. He sutured the cords,
cutting off the blood flow so it wouldn't hemorrhage; then after a short
pause, unceremoniously snipped the cord that made it a part of Charlie.

Charlie was a eunuch!

Thirty minutes later, Charlie was stitched up and bandaged and wheeled
into the recovery room. "You ok?" Andy asked with concern.
"Fine." Charlie answered, "I got no pain at all. I think I'm kinda drunk
from that demerol."
"You were awesome in there!" he exclaimed. "I don't know if I coulda
been that cool or not."
"Hey man," Charlie said cheerfully, "They were saving my life! Least I
could do was cooperate."
"You were wonderful!" Karen agreed. "We're so proud of you!"
"Thanks Mom, Dad. But right now I'm awful sleepy. Is it ok if I kinda
close my eyes for a little while?"
"I think that's a good idea." Dennis said, "You sleep, son. Or should I say
'trooper'?"
"No," he grinned, "You should say 'SON'. I love it when you call me
son!"

"I'm afraid we have some more bad news." the doctor said to Dennis,
Karen and Andy. Charlie had been moved back to a room and was still fast
asleep. "It appears," he continued, "The cancer has probably metastasized.
Charlie was in the very beginning stages of puberty, which meant that the
hormones that are beginning to flow made an easy path for the cancer.  We
haven't found any other occurrences, but with the testosterone level in his
blood as high as it is, we can assume with pretty high confidence that this
fight isn't over. I recommend that we keep him in the hospital and start
chemotherapy right away."
"NO!" Charlie exclaimed as he awoke to the doctor's final words, "I got a
concert Saturday night! I can't let the quartet down."
"Charlie," Karen soothed, "They'll understand."
"Mom," Charlie pleaded, "I have to! I checked, and if the cancer has
spread I'm probably gonna die! So it's important that I sing as long as I
can."
"You're not gonna die, is he, doctor?" Dennis said.
"Well," the doctor said in his best clinical tone, "With all the modern
advances, all the drugs and chemo available, I'm not prepared to give up
yet."
"Yes or no, doctor?" Charlie demanded.
"Charlie!" Karen scolded, "He's doing everything he can!"
"I know that, Mom. But it doesn't look good, does it doctor?"

There was a long silence, each of four faces searching every other, eyeing
the doctor, then searching the others again. Finally the doctor answered.
"No, Charlie, I'm afraid it doesn't look good. But I got the distinct
impression earlier that you weren't the type to give up. Was I wrong?"
"No, doctor! I'm not giving up. But I am facing facts, and like I said, as
long as I can, I got a job to do. Saturday I have a concert and I'm gonna be
there! And the one after that, and the one after that, till I can't do it any
more."
"All right, Charlie." the doctor said, "You stay here tonight to make sure
you're ok. Tomorrow if all is well we'll discharge you, and you can come
back Monday to start your chemo."

The doctor explained to them that the chemo therapy would more than
likely make Charlie ill and drain him of most, if not all, his energy. He
said the treatments would be once a week at first, then as they increased
the dosage they would be once every other week, then possibly as
infrequent as once a month. "How long will that go on?" Charlie asked.
"We're not sure. But based on past history, somewhere between nine
months and a year."
"A year? I can't do this for a year..."
"Yes you can!" Dennis interrupted, "And longer if you have to. You told
me you'd fight this thing with all your strength, and I'm holding you to it."
"Me too!" Andy added.

Andy lay on his bed... well, Charlie's bed actually. Charlie had wanted
them to share a room so Andy had moved it. They had twin beds, but
tonight he wanted to be close to Charlie and the only way he could do that
was to be in his bed. He wanted to cry, but he couldn't! The tears simply
would not come! Damn! He thought, that lil guy was so brave, watching
himself get cut like that knowing the consequences, and then being told he
was probably going to die! Andy tried very hard not to think of himself, of
how lost he'd be without his little brother/buddy. He wanted to think of
Charlie, how he must be feeling now in the hospital all alone. I knew it, he
thought, Charlie was always too good to be true!

"What're you thinking?" Karen asked Dennis.
"Pretty well what I'm always thinking." Dennis answered, "Only this time
I have a reason."
"I don't understand. Reason for what?"
"Well, we have a son: Garth. Just about the time he is starting to get to the
age where we can see his personality, enjoy him, help him develop, he
turns into the child from hell. Ok, we get through it, and then here comes
Charlie, absolutely perfect in every respect! Even Garth's constant abuse
cannot deter him, does not detract from his beauty, his intelligence, talent,
on and on and on. But now we're gonna lose him too! And just when the
world needs people like him! He had such a future..."
"Dennis!" Karen scolded as she sat up in bed, "How dare you talk like that
about my son!"
"Your son? Why YOUR son?"

Karen looked sternly at her husband in the dark, and Dennis saw the rage,
the flushed skin. "He's MY son because you just wrote him off!" she spat
out, "You've got him dead and buried because of what one doctor said.
Charlie's ready for a fight, but evidently you aren't!"
"Fighting takes money, Karen, and we simply don't have it. It's not a
matter of what we can afford, we simply don't have it."
"We'll get it."
"Just like that? How?"
"Whatever it takes. Sell the farm, take in washing, sell my body on the
streets, whatever. I am NOT gonna give up on my son until I see him laid
out in a box!"

Dennis started to cry. "Poor little guy... he's got such heart! But he's got to
be scared to death"
"That's the whole point, Dennis." Karen argued, "He isn't scared! He isn't
scared at all! I thought you of all people would see that! He's ready for
whatever comes, and he'll be just fine! He might die, but he'll be fine, and
he knows it! But right now he needs our strength, not our sympathy. He
needs to know we have faith to strengthen his."
"I know you're right, but it's so hard... He's been such a joy to me... It's
thrilling just having him around. He can brighten a room just by being
there!"
"That's just it. We owe him big time! We owe him for twelve years of
brightening our lives, of showing us what courage is all about! We can't
show any weakness now, Dennis! None!"

"You're still awake?" a soft male voice said as Charlie lay in his hospital
bed staring at the ceiling."
"Yeah," Charlie answered.
"Are you ok?"
"Fine. I guess I'm just not sleepy, and those drugs are makin' my vision all
funny so I can't read."
"They should be wearing off soon. I hear you had a pretty rough day."
"It's no big deal. I got through it."

"My name is Doctor John Petrie," the young man said, "I'd prefer you call
me John. I'm a resident here and I've been assigned your case. I will be
taking care of you while you're in here, and during your followup
treatments. We're gonna get to know each other very well. I hope we'll
become good friends.
"Cool." Charlie said with little emotion. He was looking intently at this
new doctor, thinking to himself that he looked more like a high school kid
than a doctor. He looked so young! Perhaps it was those looks, or that soft
voice, or maybe it was nothing in particular, but Charlie warmed to him
instantly.

"Are you having any pain?" Dr. Petrie asked.
"Not really. There's kinda a dull ache down there, but not as bad as it was
before. Doctor Fisher said it would ache a little."
"Mind if I take a look? I'll change the bandages while I'm there."
"Might as well," Charlie chuckled, "Everyone else in this building has
seen all there is there, so you're the only one who's missed out. You're
gonna be disappointed though, there isn't much left."

"Charlie," the doctor said, "I know your dignity has taken a pretty big hit
today, but if you'll trust me, I'll do my level best to preserve what's left. I
will not allow anyone near you when you're exposed, and I'll not expose
you at all unless absolutely necessary."
"I know, John. I shouldn't a said what I did. I'm sorry."
"Don't be! You have a perfect right to be pissed off. But things are gonna
get better starting now. The worst is over!"

When John removed Charlie's bandages, he had a strong urge to cry. The
incision was fine, oozing slightly as expected, but no complications that he
could see. But the sight of that tiny scrotum, empty, struck him as a huge
injustice! Such a beautiful boy, and now he was... was what? He certainly
seemed cheery under the circumstances. Did he know something that John
didn't? John expected that the boy would be devastated, but he seemed
quite content. Did he understand what had been done to him? Of course he
did! He was a twelve year old farm kid!

Charlie watched as John examined the site of the surgery. It wasn't
bothering him, really, much to his surprise. There were the usual doctor
sounds: "Hmmmm," and "Uh-huh," "Mmmmm!" Then John asked "Why
the catheter?"
"Cause I'm a bed wetter," Charlie answered, "An' doctor Fisher didn't
want me wearing diapers till the incision heals."
"Does it bother you? The catheter I mean?"
"Yeah. It doesn't hurt, but it makes me feel like I'm peein' all the time.
But it's comin' out tomorrow. Then we'll find out if I still need diapers.
Doc Fisher says there's a good chance I'll get back some control, maybe
all!"

Within a few minutes Charlie had been examined, a new bandage applied,
and was resting comfortably. A nurse had come into the room to help John
with the bandages, but true to his word, he had thanked the nurse and said
he'd handle it. "Thanks," Charlie said after she'd left.
"You're welcome." John answered, "Long as I have any authority here
you're not gonna become a circus attraction."


                *       *       *

If you wish to comment on this story, please send your comments to me at
charlieje@mindspring.com