Free Yankee Surgeon by Elizabeth Gilzean

escaped from the head covering and the sensitive lines of the mouth now relaxed as a child ’ s in anesthetic slumber ... but the angry gaping slashes left by a young gangster ’ s razor had made an ugly caricature of her face.
    “There isn ’ t really room for another pair o f hands,” Sally pointed out, even if Dr. Gerrard moves his machine farther away.” The reason was such a good one that George made no demur when Sally began the skin preparation, and she was glad. She didn ’ t want to see ... John ... just yet. There were a lot of troublesome thoughts that needed sorting.
    “Gerry, do you think you could move your anesthetic tubing a fraction? There ’ s a cut by the corner of her mouth I ’ ll have to see to if young Gloria isn ’ t to have a crooked smile. I don ’ t think it ’ s deep enough to have caught the nerve.” George stood waiting patiently, his mind forging ahead and showing him the completed operation.
    Sally fastened the last sterile towel into place and moved her trolley into easy reach. The nurse from Mary Ward brought forward two stools.
    “Hope you remembered to pad mine,” George said as he settled himself into position.
    “I ’ ve pinched the professor ’ s special one from the store room, so remind me to put it back when we ’ ve finished,” Sally told him. “Theater seems to be the one place where the rules of chivalry are taboo...”
    George glanced at the anesthetist. “Can we start, Gerry?”
    “She ’ s all yours and the best of luck.”
    Silence fell over the theater as the delicate job of remaking a girl ’ s fac e began ... a silence that stretched over one hour ... two hours ... but the two heads bent over their task never noticed the passing time...
    The theater doors were hooked back and Gloria from Soho or somewhere was lifted over on to the wheeled stretcher and the ward nurse listened to the operation report.
    “Suture of multiple facial lacerations with gossamer silkworm gut ... no dressings ... hands to be restrained until fully conscious ... not that you ’ ll need to be told that, Nurse West,” Sally said firmly.
    So Gloria was wheeled out and Sally moved with the smoothness of long, long training into getting ready for the next case. The nurse from Mary Ward had gone and she was laying up the last trolley when two sleepy theater nurses came in.
    “What have we got, Conway? Bill said something about multiple fractures and a splenectomy. Are there two cases then?” Smithers was lifting the lids off the suture jars and laying them on a sterile towel as she spoke.
    Sally shook her head. “It ’ s one case and both as far as we know.”
    “You do pick ’ em, don ’ t you! Car crash or what?”
    “Two motorcycles and this is the survivor.” Sally ’ s tone was terse.
    George put his head around the corner of the door. “Coffee ’ s ready, Sally. Come and get it.” Then he saw the two day nurses and grinned. “Hello, sleepyheads. Was bed very nice? Haven ’ t seen mine yet...”
    “I ’ m coming, thank you, Dr. Brown,” Sally said with reproving formality. “Smithers, give the instruments another five minutes before you take them out, and if Jones could do a plaster trolley ... Better make plenty of slabs if there aren ’ t any left over in the plaster bandage box in the bottom of the cupboard. We ’ ll be needing them,” she added grimly.
    She left the theater, thankful to be able to pull down her mask for the next ten minutes. Now that the rush of preparation was over she realized she was more than just a little tired. It wouldn ’ t matter once she was started on the next case. The keyed-up feeling that always coincided with putting on her sterile gown and gloves would see her through.
    George had vanished when she emerged into the corridor and took a deep breath of air that wasn ’ t hot and steamy and laden with the various odors that made up the theater atmosphere.
    “In here, Sally...” George ’ s voice called to her from