Dahya
I made this doll for Cassie soon after she was born, while she napped. As she got a little older she called her "Dahya" (for "dolly") and carried her around with her all over until she became quite bedraggled.
UPDATE: I wrote up this little story in 2003 of Dahya's repair, and that of "Meow" a stuffed cat.
Part I: Extraction of Patient
Tonight is the night. I have two VIPs: Very Important Patients. I enter
Cassie's room about one hour after she has fallen asleep for the night.
I take extreme care, tiptoeing to avoid all known creaky spots in the
floor of our very creaky old house so as not to wake her. I carefully
reach into her crib, gently extract my two patients, and tiptoe out ever
so carefully. Whew! Not a peep!
Part II: Feline Ocular Surgery
Time to repair Meow's eye. I snip the loop of thread coming out of her
eye, making her look rather creepy (not that Cassie seems to mind). I tie
a couple of knots, weave the ends through, tie some more knots, trim the
ends off. Surgery complete. Meow is not quite the picture of feline
elegance she once was, but she is no longer creepy looking.
Part III: Quadruple Extremity Transplant
Having prepared new limbs prior to surgery so as to ensure minimal
suffering for patient and her owner, I gently begin to remove the amazingly
tattered arms and legs of Dolly (AKA: Dahya). Old limbs are stored in a
safe place in case Cassie is appalled at the change and wants them back.
New spiral limbs are sewn onto Dolly's body. They are about half the
length that the old limbs had become, and ever so much whiter. She doesn't
look too bad, but still "well loved." Dolly's prior surgical history:
complete face overlay, several attempts to bolster neck so head does not
flop (alas, all attempts have failed), several dress repairs.
Part IV: Transfer of Patients to Recovery Room
I hurry the patients back to the recovery room so as to avoid entry during
that vulnerable part of Cassie's sleep cycle. Just as carefully as before
and holding my breath, I tiptoe into the room. I gently place my two
patients next to their loving owner so that she will see their friendly
faces right away when she awakes in the morning.
Summary
Two stealth missions and two surgeries in less than two hours: not bad
for a Friday night's work. (I wish I had taken a pre-op photo for comparison,
but I didn't. I suspect I will have another opportunity in the not too distant future.)
