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With the surgeon it is very much as it is with those learned men who
write those large； impressive works of reference which should be
permanently in every library； and which we are forever buying from an
agent because we are so passionately addicted to payments。 If the thing he
seeks does not appear in the contents proper he knows exactly where to
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Speaking of Operations
look for it。 〃See appendix；〃 says the historian to you in a footnote。
〃See appendix；〃 says the surgeon to himself； the while humming a cheery
refrain。 And so he does。
Well； I went home。 This was Tuesday and the operation was not to
be performed until the coming Friday。 By Wednesday I had calmed
down considerably。 By Thursday morning I was practically normal again
as regards my nerves。 You will understand that I was still in a blissful
state of ignorance concerning the actual methods of the surgical profession
as exemplified by its leading exponents of today。 The knowledge I have
touched on in the pages immediately preceding was to come to me later。
Likewise Doctor Z's manner had been deceiving。 It could not be that
he meant to carve me to any really noticeable extenthis attitude had been
entirely too casual。 At our house carving is a very serious matter。 Any
time I take the head of the table and start in to carve it is fitting women
and children get to a place of safety； and onlookers should get under the
table。 When we first began housekeeping and gave our first small
dinner…party we had a brace of ducks cooked in honor of the company； and
I； as host； undertook to carve them。 I never knew until then that a duck
was built like a watchthat his works were inclosed in a burglarproof case。
Without the use of dynamite the Red Leary…O'Brien gang could not have
broken into those ducks。 I thought so then and I think so yet。 Years
have passed since then； but I may state that even now； when there are
guests for dinner； we do not have ducks。 Unless somebody else is going to
carve； we have liver。
I mention this fact in passing because it shows that I had learned to
revere carving as one of the higher arts； and one not to be approached
except in a spirit of due appreciation of the magnitude of the undertaking；
and after proper consideration and thought and reflection； and all that sort
of thing。
If this were true as regards a mere duck； why not all the more so as
regards the carving of a person of whom I am so very fond as I am of
myself？ Thus I reasoned。 And finally； had not Doctor Z spoken of the
coming operation as a small matter？ Well then？
Thursday at noon I received from Doctor Z's secretary a note stating
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Speaking of Operations
that arrangements had been made for my admission into St。 Germicide that
same evening and that I was to spend the night there。 This hardly
seemed necessary。 Still； the tone of the note appeared to indicate that the
hospital authorities particularly wished to have me for an overnight guest；
and as I reflected that probably the poor things had few enough bright
spots in their busy lives； I decided I would humor them along and gladden
the occasion with my presence from dinner…time on。
About eight o'clock I strolled in very jauntily。 In my mind I had the
whole programme mapped out。 I would stay at the hospital for； say； two
days following the operationor； at most； three。 Then I must be up and
away。 I had a good deal of work to do and a number of people to see on
important business； and I could not really afford to waste more than a
weekend on the staff of St。 Germicide's。 After Monday they must look to
their own devices for social entertainment。 That was my idea。 Now
when I look back on it I laugh； but it is a hollow laugh and there is no real
merriment in it。
Indeed； almost from the moment of my entrance little things began to
come up that were calculated to have a depressing effect on one's spirits。
Downstairs a serious…looking lady met me and entered in a book a number
of salient facts regarding my personality which the previous investigators
had somehow overlooked。 There is a lot of bookkeeping about an
operation。 This detail attended to； a young man； dressed in white
garments and wearing an expression that stamped him as one who had
suffered a recent deep bereavement came and relieved me of my hand bag
and escorted me upstairs。
As we passed through the upper corridors I had my first introduction
to the hospital smell； which is a smell compounded of iodoform； ether；
gruel； and something boiling。 All hospitals have it； I understand。 In
time you get used to it； but you never really care for it。
The young man led me into a small room tastefully decorated with
four walls； a floor； a ceiling； a window sill and a window； a door and a
doorsill； and a bed and a chair。 He told me to go to bed。 I did not want to
go to bedit was not my regular bedtimebut he made a point of it； and I
judged it was according to regulations； so I undressed and put on my night
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Speaking of Operations
clothes and crawled in。 He left me； taking my other clothes and my
shoes with him； but I was not allowed to get lonely。
A little later a ward surgeon appeared； to put a few inquiries of a
pointed and personal nature。 He particularly desired to know what my
trouble was。 I explained to him that I couldn't tell him he would have
to see Doctor X or Doctor Z； they probably knew； but were keeping it a
secret between themselves。
The answer apparently satisfied him； because immediately after that he
made me sign a paper in which I assumed all responsibility for what was
to take place the next morning。
This did not seem exactly fair。 As I pointed out to him； it was the
surgeon's affair； not mine； and if the surgeon made a mistake the