The green eyes stayed open.  Lisle stared down at her hand despite the suggestion not to.  There was no pain, thanks to the anesthetic and the tourniquet - in fact, it was like watching it from a distance.  She saw her thumb fall off, heard the dull thud of flesh striking the tray.  With that one cut, the hand - her hand - became alien, spindly and disproportionate.<br/><br/>It looked wrong.<br/><br/>The drug from the IV kept her detached.  There would be time later for reality to set in, but by then there would be no turning back - if there was even time to turn back now.  A side effect was that it didn't give panic a chance to spike her heartbeat, keeping the blood flow as slow as possible, but Lisle started to feel lightheaded anyways.<br/><br/>She felt like she should say something, but the words weren't lining up right.  The vibration was oddly soothing in her core, adding to the surreal nature of the scene as she watched the shears move to her left index.<br/><br/>That was when words joined up into something coherent enough to drop from the brain into speech.<br/><br/>"Cats have toes," she said, and it even sounded distant to her ears - slightly drowsy and slurred.