Evening star., 1937-01-31
RGICAL OPERATION is STUDY IN PROFESSIONAL CALM
Life and Death Drama
Seems Casual Routine
But Reporter Quails During Gripping Per-
formance Staged by Steady-Nerved
Men in White.

that goes to the wealthiest patient.
To them all men are truly equal, for
where there Is serious afiiictions there
are no barriers, either social, racial or
economic.
A ssISTANTS barred the patients
- stomach. cleansed it was gauze
swabs dipped in ether, painted the
whole skin area with iodine. A Frame
work Of towels was laid around the
operative surface. Patient, table and
all then were covered completely with
sterile sheet in which there was q
single opening. This was unanswered
correctly over the spot to be incised.
The coverings were so complete that
all I could see of the patient was her
forehead and that small yellow skin
surface-yellowed by jaundice as well
as iodine.
The chief surgeon, the famous fell
low, explained to the students some
symptoms of the patients illness. He
spoke in a classroom tone.
What does that indicator" he said.
Silence in the galleries.
"Come on, speak up," he said. His
voice was matter-of-fact, neither child
ing nor suggestive of pedantical i'm
patience.
One of the young men in the GAL
leries said something
What was that?" said the chief
surgeon.
Two voices spoke. It was some
technical term. I tried to remember
it, but couldn't. The rubber bladder
on the gas device was expanding and
contracting with the patients breath
ing. She was under" all right.
That's right" said the head man
through his gauze mask.
"Now," he said, "the student assist
ing me here Che gestured toward a
young inferno at his side) will explain
to you what I'm doing. He'll tell you
what I do that's right and maybe he'll
tell me If I'm wrong"
There was a ripple of laughter in
the galleries. and a few student ex-
presSions seemed to say, THE pro-
fessor must have his little joke"
THE chief surgeon stepped to the
patients side, bent over slightly.
A nurse handed him a scalpel. That
was the way it was throughout that
operation-the nurses handed the sur
geons everything. The surgeons never
took their eyes of their work. They
just reached out and the proper in
strument appeared in their hands.
One of the nurses-she looks plump
with all those billowing white gar
ments on-is standing at table, pass
ing instruments and spouges-to an
other. A third nurse is keeping an
account of all that goes into the in
cision. She makes a tally before the
wound IS sewed up to make sure moth
ing Is left inside that doesn't belong
there.
Now the incision. A brisk, strong
| movement Of the chief surgeons right
arm-so quick, so sure that you know
the hand is quicker than the eye.
Clip. clip with the clamps, to close
the blood vessels. More deft strokes
of the scalpel.
Occasionally there are explanations
to the students, but these are few and
brief. The inciSion goes deep, and
there's not much to be seen.
An anesthetist beckoned me. I
walked over and stood beside him for
a better look. Sweat began to ooze
from my forehead. There was the
odor of ether. felt weak. My gauze
mask seemed to clog my breathing. 1t
was just the heat, I thought. A wall
thermometer read 80 degrees.
The sweat began to stream down my
face. I looked away from the incision.
What was the matter with me? There
was very little blood. The smell OF
ether grew stronger. A mist formed
in front of the students in one Of the
galleries. I saw my photographer
grinning at me in derision. knew I
was going to faint.
staggered out Of the operating
room. My knees buckled as if some
one had hit me in the joints with a
two by four. Somehow got to q
bench and sat down. Everything was
dim, and my spine felt like water.
could see hazy figures moving around.
No one paid any attention.
A FTER awhile I felt all right. Avi-
atnrs who have crashed snd lived