Conan didn't tell us about it. He was silent. We found out, a day later, that he was going to have an operation. At our own hospital, where we did our clinical duty a few weeks back.
We joked about it among ourselves. "Is it a major case? Oh, I want to be the scrub nurse!" Or maybe Conan will take it as his own case, do the scrubbing himself. "Retractor." Conan groping for the instrument in the Mayo tray: "Yes, doc."
Luckily, the surgery fell on a Saturday. Or maybe he deliberately scheduled it on a Saturday, because there are no student nurses on that day in the OR theater.
Conan is always the life of the group. Young, bugoy, very funny, and at times serious, he bonds us all together with his down-to-earth and unpretentious personality.
A few weeks ago he was so morbid. A below-the-knee amputation just ended and the OR staff were out. He held the patient's amputated foot and told us to take a picture of him with a celfone camera. He was going to post it in his Friendster. I wasn't amused, it was so cold-hearted of him to do that.
Now, he is going to be the patient. He is going to be the one who lays on the OR table, totally at the mercy of the surgeon's scalpel.
But it's alright. It's nothing serious.
Get well soon, Nanoc!
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