speaking of operations(说起手术)-第4章
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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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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 joke
would be on him and not on me； because in that case I would not be here
anyhow。 But I signed； as requested； on the dotted line； and he departed。
After that； at intervals； the chief house surgeon dropped in； without
knocking； and the head nurse came； and an interne or so； and a ward nurse；
and the special nurse who was to have direct charge of me。 It dawned on
me that I was not having any more privacy in that hospital than a goldfish。
About eleven o'clock an orderly came； and； without consulting my
wishes in the matter； he undressed me until I could have passed almost
anywhere for September Morn's father； and gave me a clean shave； twice
over； on one of my most prominent plane surfaces。 I must confess I
enjoyed that part of it。 So far as I am able to recall； it was the only shave
I have ever had where the operator did not spray me with cheap perfumery
afterward and then try to sell me a bottle of hair tonic。
Having shaved me； the young man did me up amidships in a neat cloth
parcel； took his kit under his arm and went away。
It occurred to me that； considering the trivial nature of the case； a good
deal of fuss was being made over me by persons who could have no
personal concern in the matter whatsoever。 This thought recurred to me
frequently as I lay there all tied in a bundle like a week's washing。 I did
not feel quite so uppish as I had felt。 Why was everybody picking on me？
Anon I slept； but dreamed fitfully。 I dreamed that a whole flock of
surgeons came to my bedside and charted me out in sections； like one of
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those diagram pictures you see of a beef in the Handy Compendium of
Universal Knowledge； showing the various cuts and the butcher's pet
name for each cut。 Each man took his favorite joint and carried it away；
and when they were all gone I was merely a recent site； full of
reverberating echoes and nothing else。
I have had happier dreams in my time； this was not the kind of dream I
should have selected had the choice been left to me。
When I woke the young sun was shining in at the window； and an
orderlynot the orderly who had shaved me； but another onewas there in
my room and my nurse was waiting outside the door。 The orderly
dressed me in a quaint suit of pyjamas cut on the half shell and buttoning
stylishly in the back； princesse mode。 Then he rolled in a flat litter on
wheels and stretched me on it； and covered me up with a white tablecloth；
just as though I had been cold Sunday…night supper； and we started for the
operating…room at the top of the building； but before we started I lit a large
black cigar； as Gen。 U。 S。 Grant used to do when he went into battle。 I
wished by this to show how indifferent I was。 Maybe he fooled
somebody； but I do not believe I possess the same powers of simulation
that Grant had。 He must have been a very remarkable manGrant must。
The orderly and the nurse trundled me out into the hall and loaded me
into an elevator； which was to carry us up to the top of the hospital。
Several other nurses were already in the elevator。 As we came aboard
one of them remarked that it was a fine day。 A fine day for what？ She
did not finish the sentence。
Everybody wore a serious look。 Inside of myself I felt pretty serious
tooserious enough for ten or twelve。 I had meant to fling off several
very bright； spontaneous quips on the way to the table。 I thought them
out in advance； but now； somehow； none of them seemed appropriate。
Instinctively； as it were； I felt that humor was out of place here。
I never knew an elevator to progress from the third floor of a building
to the ninth with such celerity as this one on which we were traveling
progressed。 Personally I was in no mood for haste。 If there was anyone
else in all that great hospital who was in a particular hurry to be operated
on I was perfectly willing to wait。 But alas； no！ The mechanism of the
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elevator was in perfect order entirely too perfect。 No accident of any
character whatsoever befell us en route； no dropping back into the
basement with a low； grateful thud； no hitch； no delay of any kind。 We
were certainly out of luck that trip。 The demon of a joyrider who
operated the accursed device jerked a lever and up we soared at a
distressingly high rate of speed。 If I could have had my way about that
youth he would have been arrested for speeding。
Now we were there！ They rolled into a large room； all white； with a
rounded ceiling like the inside of an egg。 Right away I knew what the
feelings of a poor； lonely little yolk are when the spoon begins to chip the
shell。 If I had not been so busy feeling sorry for myself I think I might
have developed quite an active sympathy for yolks。
My impression had been that this was to be in the nature of a private
affair； without invitations。 I was astonished to note that quite a crowd
had assembled for the opening exercises。 From his attire and general
deportment I judged that Doctor Z was going to be the master of the revels；
he being attired appropriately in a white domino； with rubber gloves and a
fancy cap of crash toweling。 There were present； also； my diagnostic
friend； Doctor X； likewise in fancy…dress costume； and a surgeon I had
never met。 From what I could gather he was going over the course
behind Doctor Z to replace the divots。
And there was an interne in the background； playing caddy； as it were；
and a head nurse； who was going to keep the score； and two other nurses；
who were going to help her keep it。 I only hoped that they would show
no partiality； but be as fair to me as they were to Doctor Z； and that he
would go round in par。
So they placed me right where my eyes might rest on a large wall
cabinet full of very shiny…looking tools； and they took my cigar away from
me and folded my hands on the wide bowknot of my sash。 Then they put a
cloth dingus over my face and a voice of authority told me to breathe。
That advice； however； was superfluous and might just as well have been
omitted； for such was my purpose anyhow。 Ever since I can recall
anything at all； breathing has been a regular habit with me。 So I breathed。
And； at that； a bottle of highly charged sarsaparilla exploded somewhere in
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the immediate vicinity and most of its contents went up my nose。
I started to tell them that somebody had been fooling with their ether
and adulterating it； and that if they thought they could send me off to sleep
with soda pop they were making the mistake of their lives； because it just
naturally could not be done； but for some reason or other I decided to put
off speaking about the matter for a few minutes。 I breathed againagain…
…agai
I was going away from there。 I was in a large gas balloon； soaring up
into the clouds。 How pleasant！ 。。。 No； by Jove！ I was not in a balloonI
myself was the balloon； which was not quite so pleasant。 Besides； Doctor
Z was going along as a passenger； and as we traveled up and up he kept
jabbing me in the midriff with the ferrule of a large umbrella which he had
brought along with him in case of rain。 He jabbed me harder and harder。
I remonstrated with him。 I told him I was a bit tender in that locality and
the ferrule of his umbrella was sharp。 He would not listen。 He kept on
jabbing me。
Something broke！ We started back down to earth。 We fell faster and
faste
