At least Dr. Phillips had a nice relaxing weekend. |
I woke up Monday morning, refreshed from a leisurely weekend of reading, soaking, and journaling. I would be ready for the intense concentration that performing neurosurgery requires. Mrs. Katz was to have a tumor removed. During my shower, I was picturing the procedure in my mind, eyes closed. I toweled off, dressed and went downstairs. My cell phone beeped. Not unusual, I got myself a cup of decaf and sat down to return the call. My eyebrows rose, it was the head of neurosurgery, Dr. Bernstein. "Where are you!" the voice of my boss jumped out of the phone and into my ear. "What?" "Mrs. Katz is prepped and you're at home, that's what!" "The surgery is at 9:00 and it's 8:00'' I retorted. "It's nine." "What?" "It's nine. Don't tell me you forgot daylight savings time?" "Daylight savings time? Is this a joke?' "No, just get over here." "On my way." My stomach was in knots. Not good. Poor Mrs. Katz was laying there waiting for me. And she had requested me for this surgery! I arrived at 9:30 and scrubbed as fast as I could for surgery. Everyone was avoiding eye contact. I barged into the operating room. Dr. Bernstein was already performing the surgery. "You can assist me, Dr. Phillips" he said without looking up. Dr. Bernstein's surgery was brilliant and he did everything he could to save Mrs. Katz, but sadly she suffered a stroke during the surgery and passed away. The family was furious and blamed Dr. Bernstein. A lawsuit is imminent, stating that Dr. Bernstein was not the doctor they had requested. I am sure that Mrs. Katz would have died anyway whether Dr. Bernstein or I had performed the surgery. Regardless, I feel guilty that it was him and not me. word count: 298 |