Loss of Face

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Loss of Face.

By

Angharad.

I’m told it was weeks before I surfaced back to consciousness, drifting in a soup of darkness and pain. The explosion, so I was informed had blown up underneath me catching me somehow in my groin and face–go figure. I lay there racked with pain trying to remember what happened but I couldn’t. All I could remember was flames and pain and the sense of flying before everything went black and stayed that way for a long time.

The pain gave way to depression as I realised I no longer had a crotch or a face. All the pleasure I’d planned to have with my left hand’s best friend was now a distant memory and my face a patchwork of scarring and pain.

Somehow my eyes had been saved–I haven’t a clue how, but I could see the bandages and the damage to my face. Okay, so before I wasn’t the most handsome guy around but at fourteen I had a chance to grow into it. Now, I wouldn’t, the doctors just spoke of years of plastic surgery as they tried to rebuild my face taking the skin from my arse of all places, but not until I was feeling stronger.

The damage to my nether bits, well, the least said the soonest mended. I was attached to a catheter and my dangly bits were possibly still dangling–but from a tree somewhere, along with the skin that held them to me. I’m told I was lucky I didn’t bleed to death–I think I might beg to differ.

All knew was that I felt strange, yeah okay, I felt strange all the time, wouldn’t you with your balls in orbit somewhere round the sun for all I knew, but this night I felt even stranger–I was drifting in and out of consciousness again and I could make the door to my room disappear just by thinking it. Something was wrong, I was burning up all over and my face and groin were on fire. I tried to reach for the nurse call thingy but I guess I didn’t make it.

A week later with my parents standing over me, I learned my kidneys had gone looking for balls–well, they might as well have–they stopped pumping pee into my bladder succumbing to some massive infection I got. I was on a machine for eight days, so I’ve got some more holes in me. Jeez, why can’t I just die and have done with it? What have I got to live for? Now they tell me, they can’t do any plastic surgery on my burns because of the infection–the bug ate some of the underlying tissues away. Why don’t they just shoot me?

The main surgeon has just left me–nice guy, reminds me of that good looking American actor, George Clooney or whatever his name is–anyway he said he had a proposition to put to me. I listened when the pain let me.

He’d already spoken to my ‘rents and they’d consented but he didn’t want to do anything until I also agreed. Like I said I sort of listened. Something about a donor, some poor bugger with less luck than I had–he wants to give me his face and crotch. Why not? You never know, I might have a pudding to pull yet–I’m not holding my breath–well only to scare the nurses, but then one glance at my face would do that. Would I have much of a career starring in zombie movies?

About a week after I consented–I even got to sign the form under my parent’s signatures. Apparently this was all a bit experimental, no one had ever transplanted a whole meat and two veg before–least I guessed that’s what he meant, and face transplants are hardly two a penny are they? Not just my face but my whole scalp as well. I wonder who the poor bugger who previously owned it was–but they’ll never tell me.

The surgeon was so excited–so was I, not. I was almost crapping myself until I realised that my face and nether bits couldn’t hurt anymore than they currently do. If they give me much more morphine, I’ll be an addict in a couple more months.

The premed–I floated off into pure bliss–there was no pain as I felt them run something into the cannula in the back of my hand. I was in a medically induced coma following fourteen hours of surgery by at last three teams of surgeons–so they told me when I could listen. I was told by the sister on the ward that the lead surgeon, yeah the George Clooney lookalike, was a total genius.

My parents echoed that sentiment and they said they’d been told that everything was healing really well, except I got the feeling that there was something I wasn’t being told. Like, why did I have a dressing from my belly button down to my new pudding?

When I asked the sister said something about how they had to connect everything up including nerves and blood vessels and of course my bladder unless I wanted to be on a bag for life. Don’t they do those at Tesco?

It’s now a month since they did my face and my new dongle, in an hour I get to see them, I am crapping myself–what if the guy who previously owned it was like a gorilla–or maybe he was hung like a horse–all the feedback I get is discomfort and when I asked about sexual function they seemed to suggest I just wait and see.

I don’t believe this–I’d be better off fucking dead. I can’t believe they did this to me, the bastards. I really don’t believe it–the fucking donor was some chick–I look like a fucking girl and I don’t have a prick to pull, they transplanted her twat complete with fucking ovaries, the works and apparently it all works according to the blood tests.

I told my parents to piss off, how could they do this to me? I thought they loved me? They’ve turned me into a fucking girl–I hate them and that bastard surgeon Mister what’s his fucking name. I’ll bet he wouldn’t swap his dick for a fucking twat. I wanna die, just let me die.

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Comments

About once a month.

I feel like that about once a month. Fortunately, it goes away after a while.

Gwendolyn

omg :*~~~~~~

I refuse to comment on the content of this story since it disturbs me too deeply. It's written well though, as Angharad is a Mistress of words. Its crafted shortly to the point. Not Angharad's usual fare, but different for a change.

I apologize from my heart Angharad, you know I love you! And I would love to comment more openly, but I can't on this one. I just can't.

Sephrena

 
 
 
Life is too short to not take chance at Happiness!

What an Ungrateful Pig !

All that trouble and expense, to give him a new chance at living, and he says that! Well, if he doesn't like what hundreds of thousands of others would call a big improvement, he knows what he can do ! And Good Riddance too!

I hope everyone noticed how well Angharad wrote this as though it came from just one of those fortunately starting to vanish breed of males who think they are better than females. I mean, it is obvious that things are the other way round surely, that's why girls live longer than boys, is it not ?

Of course, someone ought to have prepared him for the change, as in Real Life they surely would have.

Brilliant writing, Angharad.

Briar

Agree

Agree on both counts, very well written and the main character is an ungrateful pig to some extent.
Not as ungrateful as you may think though, since he was not given a choice and, like the say in The Matrix or in court, choice is essential.
To reduce the bad judgement on the guy a little bit I may add that most people that are hurting are selfish.
So, this is well written enough for us to be discussing the moral stand of the main character.

I think he has a right to be

I think he has a right to be angry - it seems they didn't fully inform him and deliberately led him to the wrong conclusions about major surgery to his person. That's something to be pissed about (pun may or may not be intended :-) regardless of what the surgery actually was.

That's Sort of the Question...

Depends on how you read it. Based on the comments, some readers apparently felt that his description of his mental state implied that he had been told, but it didn't register with him.

FWIW, I read it the same way you did, more or less -- not so much that they deliberately misled him but that they withheld the information ("unless he asks" -- and he didn't) so that he wouldn't object. (That's probably a distinction without a difference.) And reached the same conclusion.

Eric

Interesting Ang.

You've obviously been exploring other viewpoints and perspectives, not to mention prejudices. Nice to see you venturing into other 'realms' and examining different options.

Well written as always.

Thanks for this tasty little snack.

XX

Bev.

bev_1.jpg

Loss of Face is a most

Loss of Face is a most disturbing story. I totally agree with his reaction.

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

Boys are boys and girls are girls

Irrespective of the body they were born with. Transplanting the genitals of one to 'tother without preparation or desire is contrary to everything that the medical profession stands for. (See also ' A Different Plane of Existence' by Karen Page)

Proves a point.

Thanks Ang.

Bag For Life

Extravagance's picture

They do them at Waitrose too. My local Waitrose was expanded recently, and I expanded my carrying capacity with a couple of those bags.
Now I can buy more Prawns! ^_^

Oh, and that boy really should have listened more carefully. After all, the surgeons were led to believe that he really did want a girl's face and twat!
Silly boy.

Catfolk Pride.PNG

He Had Ears But Didn't Listen

joannebarbarella's picture

While I can sympathise in a way, the boy was told but wasn't listening, maybe due to the pain and maybe just feeling too sorry for himself. Still, nobody forced him to sign the consent form.

Perhaps he'll feel better about it when the hormones kick in!

A regular little treat from Angharad,

Joanne

Nice Twist

terrynaut's picture

That's a nice twist to the same premise in one of my longer stories. I think your twist works better as a short story though -- very hard hitting.

Thanks and kudos.

- Terry

Dam

Hypatia Littlewings's picture

Good story,
But, Dam.

Did anyone make sure he was in any condition to consent.

The boy might not be an ingrate

but in one or more of those *stages of grief* IE anger or denial.

I meant as others said HOW could he make an informed decision all drugged up and all. Plus we have so little to go on in this brief tale so how can we honestly judge his mindset?

I admit this IS BC but WHY a female donor?

I would think a male might be genetically and immunological closer but then beggars can't be choosers. And I am no medical expert.

Short tale but a couple Q though not necessarily important.

Why was he caught on an explosion? Terrorists,? A WWII unexploded bomb?

Was cooking up illegal stuff and blew himself up? Cleaning parts in the basement in gasoline and spilled it, fumes got to the furnace and KABOOM! A gas leak?

AND it would be interesting if either he knew the girl, even liked her. Then he would feel guilty over her death bringing him life -- hope it wasn't due to something he did -- and feel obligated to be the best girl he could be for her sake.

OR was the dead girl was the child or a relative of one of the surgeons? IE this was somewhat of a set up?

Or am I a *Grassy Knoll* conspiracy theorist now?

Nice Ang if a bit weird. And I *know* weird.

-- snicker --

John in Wauwatosa

John in Wauwatosa

Rush to Judgement?

Andrea Lena's picture

...a regular Markie Lane? Seriously, how many of us wake up each morning wondering about the 'operation' fate foisted off on us before we were born? That pesky 'addition' down below and the 'subtraction' further up the body that shouts at us, "Hah!" And keep in mind.... he's a KID. Your speculation is like a TG version of the Zapruder 8mm movie, which almost gives us as many questions as answers, aye? Miss Scarlett on the Grassy Knoll with a bottle of Estriadol?

  

To be alive is to be vulnerable. Madeleine L'Engle
Love, Andrea Lena

Yep....

Yep. Saw that coming. Was a bit surprised that things concluded so quickly.

His parents? I think I can understand why they might agree to the "fix" to his nether regions... Thinking something working might be better than nothing. Dunno though. The face - that's an easier one.

Thanks,
Annette

A great short story

This was a great little vignette Angharad.

I like the way it plays with how readers to this site would react in the same situation, it really is nature not nurture.

Love to All

Anne G.

Very RL

Good story.
I'm certain that 99% of 14 year old boys would get the "I prefer to be dead" feeling at this point. It wil take them months or - much more likely - YEARS before they get to the "better a girl then dead" stage. As to happiness about being a fertile female? I'd bet good money that quite a few will NEVER be happy about it. I'd expect most to be happy to be in good health and resigned about their new sex, with some raging against their new sex all their lives. In short - this surgery just produced a FtM candidate ...