Surgeons usually fantasize about wild and improbable surgeries. Someone collapses in a restaurant; we splice them open with a butter knife. Replace a valve with a hollowed-out stick of carrot. But every now and then, some other kind of fantasy slips in.
Most of our fantasies dissolve when we wake. Banished to the back of our mind. But sometimes we're sure, if we try hard enough, we can live the dream.
The fantasy is simple. Pleasure is good.
That pain is bad.
And no pain is better.
But the reality is different.
The reality is that pain is there to tell us something.
And there's only so much pleasure we can take without getting a stomach ache. And maybe that's OK.
Maybe some fantasies are only supposed to live in our dreams.
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