speaking of operations-第4章
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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
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 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 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 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
