We still had a long way to go. Probably another two hours at least. Still, I was irritated. How many years do I have to tolerate night surgery with double left-handed residents, semi-comatose nurses and clueless anesthetists? As the years passed, my inner exasperation grew. I could complete that operation in an hour or so. For God's sake! Let me only move to the right side of the table and we are out of here for breakfast. Having dealt with hundreds of bleeding stomachs I could do this operation with my eyes closed. But this was a teaching program and Radezki had to learn. Next year he should be able to cut some poor bugger somewhere in a small American town—on his own. He is a good chap, old Radezki. I like him. So let him continue, just calm down and teach him how to do it. That's what I'm paid for.
"John, please open your eyes and pull on this retractor..." The junior resident appeared to have fallen asleep while leaning on the hooked metal instrument with which he should have pulled the rib cage upwards. That would have, ideally, enabled us to expose the liver and the duodenum hidden underneath. That is, if he was doing what he was supposed to.
"Yes sir," responded the somnolent resident.