speaking of operations-第3章

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As　I　rose　to　follow　herstill　clinging　with　the　drowning　man's
grip　of　desperation　to　my　hat　and　my　umbrellaI　was　astonished
to　note　by　a　glance　at　the　calendar　on　the　wall　that　this　was
still　the　present　date。　　I　thought　it　would　be　Thursday　of　next
week　at　the　very　least。

Doctor　Z　also　wore　whiskers；　carefully　pointed　up　by　an　expert
hedge　trimmer。　　He　sat　at　his　desk；　surrounded　by　freewill　offerings
from　grateful　patients　and　by　glass　cases　containing　other　things
he　had　taken　away　from　them　when　they　were　not　in　a　condition　to
object。　　I　had　expected；　after　all　the　preliminary　ceremonies　and
delays；　that　we　should　have　a　long　skance　together。　　Not　so；　not
at　all。　　The　modern　expert　in　surgery　charges　as　much　for　remembering
your　name　between　visits　as　the　family　doctor　used　to　expect　for
staying　up　all　night　with　you；　but　he　does　not　waste　any　time　when
you　are　in　his　presence。

I　was　about　to　find　that　out。　　And　a　little　later　on　I　was　to　find
out　a　lot　of　other　things；　in　fact；　that　whole　week　was　of　immense
educational　value　to　me。

I　presume　it　was　because　he　stood　high　in　his　profession；　and　was
almost　constantly　engaged　in　going　into　the　best　society　that　Doctor
Z　did　not　appear　to　be　the　least　bit　excited　over　my　having　picked
him　out　to　look　into　me。　　In　the　most　perfunctory　manner　he　shook
the　hand　that　has　shaken　the　hands　of　Jess　Willard；　George　M。　Cohan
and　Henry　Ford；　and　bade　me　be　seated　in　a　chair　which　was　drawn
up　in　a　strong　light；　where　he　might　gaze　directly　at　me　as　we
conversed　and　so　get　the　full　values　of　the　composition。　　But　if
I　was　a　treat　for　him　to　look　at　he　concealed　his　feelings　very
effectually。

He　certainly　had　his　emotions　under　splendid　control。　　But　then；
of　course；　you　must　remember　that　he　probably　had　traveled　about
extensively　and　was　used　to　sight…seeing。

From　this　point　on　everything　passed　off　in　a　most　businesslike
manner。　　He　reached　into　a　filing　cabinet　and　took　out　an　exhibit；
which　I　recognized　as　the　same　one　his　secretary　had　filled　out
in　the　early　part　of　the　century。　　So　I　was　already　in　the　card…index
class。　　Then　briefly　he　looked　over　the　manifest　that　Doctor　X　had
sent　him。　　It　may　not　have　been　a　manifestit　may　have　been　an
invoice　or　a　bill　of　lading。　　Anyhow　I　was　in　the　assignee's　hands。
I　could　only　hope　it　would　not　eventually　become　necessary　to　call
in　a　receiver。　　Then　he　spoke：

〃Yes；　yes…yes；〃　he　said；　〃yes…yes…yes！　Operation　required。　　Small
matterhum；　hum！　Let's　seethis　is　Tuesday？　Quite　so。　　Do　it
Friday！　　Friday　at〃he　glanced　toward　a　scribbled　pad　of　engagement
dates　at　his　elbow〃Friday　at　seven　A。　M。　　No；　make　it　seven…fifteen。
Have　important　tumor　case　at　seven。　　St。　Germicide's　Hospital。
You　know　the　placeup　on　Umpty…umph　Street。　　Go'　day！　Miss　Whoziz；
call　next　visitor。〃

And　before　I　realized　that　practically　the　whole　affair　had　been
settled　I　was　outside　the　consultation…room　in　a　small　private
hall；　and　the　secretary　was　telling　me　further　details　would　be
conveyed　to　me　by　mail。　　I　went　home　in　a　dazed　state。　　For　the
first　time　I　was　beginning　to　learn　something　about　an　industry　in
which　heretofore　I　had　never　been　interested。　　Especially　was　I
struck　by　the　difference　now　revealed　to　me　in　the　preliminary
stages　of　the　surgeons'　business　as　compared　with　their　fellow
experts　in　the　allied　cutting　tradestailors；　for　instance；　not
to　mention　barbers。　　Every　barber；　you　know；　used　to　be　a　surgeon；
only　he　spelled　it　chirurgeon。　　Since　then　the　two　professions
have　drifted　far　apart。　　Even　a　half…witted　barberthe　kind　who
always　has　the　first　chair　as　you　come　into　the　shopcan　easily
spend　ten　minutes　of　your　time　thinking　of　things　he　thinks　you
should　have　and　mentioning　them　to　you　one　by　one；　whereas　any
good；　live　surgeon　knows　what　you　have　almost　instantly。

As　for　the　tailorconsider　how　wearisome　are　his　methods　when
you　parallel　them　alongside　the　tremendous　advances　in　this　direction
made　by　the　surgeonhow　cumbersome　and　old…fashioned　and　tedious！
Why；　an　experienced　surgeon　has　you　all　apart　in　half　the　time　the
tailor　takes　up　in　deciding　whether　the　vest　shall　fasten　with
five　buttons　or　six。　　Our　own　domestic　tailors　are　bad　enough　in
this　regard　and　the　Old　World　tailors　are　even　worse。

I　remember　a　German　tailor　in　Aix…la…Chapelle　in　the　fall　of　1914
who　undertook　to　build　for　me　a　suit　suitable　for　visiting　the
battle　lines　informally。　　He　was　the　most　literary　tailor　I　ever
met　anywhere。　　He　would　drape　the　material　over　my　person　and
then　take　a　piece　of　chalk　and　write　quite　a　nice　long　piece　on
me。　　Then　he　would　rub　it　out　and　write　it　all　over　again；　but
more　fully。　　He　kept　this　up　at　intervals　of　every　other　day　until
he　had　writer's　cramp。　　After　that　he　used　pins。　　He　would　pin　the
seams　together；　uttering　little　soothing；　clucking　sounds　in　German
whenever　a　pin　went　through　the　goods　and　into　me。　　The　German
cluck　is　not　so　soothing　as　the　cluck　of　the　English…speaking
peoples；　I　find。

At　the　end　of　two　long　and　trying　weeks；　which　wore　both　of　us
down　noticeably；　he　had　the　job　done。　　It　was　not　an　unqualified
success。　　He　regarded　is　as　a　suit　of　clothes；　but　I　knew　better；
it　was　a　set　of　slip　covers；　and　if　only　I　had　been　a　two…seated
runabout　it　would　have　proved　a　perfect　fit；　I　am　sure；　but　I　am
a　single…seated　design　and　it　did　not　answer。　　I　wore　it　to　the
war　because　I　had　nothing　else　to　wear　that　would　stamp　me　as　a
regular　war　correspondent；　except；　of　course；　my　wrist　watch；　but
I　shall　not　wear　it　to　another　war。　　War　is　terrible　enough　already；
and；　besides；　I　have　parted　with　it。　　On　my　way　home　through　Holland
I　gave　that　suit　to　a　couple　of　poor　Belgian　refugees；　and　I　presume
they　are　still　wearing　it。

So　far　as　I　have　been　able　to　observe；　the　surgeons　and　the　tailors
of　these　times　share　but　one　common　instinct：　If　you　go　to　a　new
surgeon　or　to　a　new　tailor　he　is　morally　certain；　after　looking
you　over；　that　the　last　surgeon　you　had　or　the　last　tailor；　did
not　do　your　cutting　properly。　　There；　however；　is　where　the
resemblance　ends。　　The　tailor；　as　I　remarked　in　effect　just　now；
wants　an　hour　at　least　in　which　to　decide　how　he　may　best　cover
up　and　disguise　the　irregularities　of　the　human　form；　in　much　less
time　than　that　the　surgeon　has　completely　altered　the　form　itself。

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　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。