“LEFT? Left! Or… the right one? Yeah, the right one was the right one, or shit, was it the wrong one?”
The inner pondering of highly accomplished surgeon Dr. Gideon O’Connell O’Shea revealed a medical professional questioning whether or not he had taken out the correct lung from a patient as part of a lung transplant operation.
“They’d say something though, right? The nurses… or am I too intimidating that they’d be afraid to question my authority. Fuck me, this is the 5th time this year O’Shea, you bloody plonker,” Dr. O’Shea continued as his pondering gave rise to specks of sweat on his brow.
Not wanting to appear foolish, Dr. O’Shea racked his brain over and over again in search for a definitive affirmation that the lung he was supposed to take out was in fact the right lung.
With his tendency to usually race out of the operating theatre and to his next appointment or surgery, O’Shea chose to hover around the operating theatre in a bid to pick up the patient’s chart once the nurse had placed it down and left it unattended.
However, Dr. O’Shea was all too aware that was he to linger for too long, his presence would become conspicuous in the extreme.
“Nah, nah, don’t worry about it. Fuck it, it was probably the correct one… probably,” Dr. O’Shea concluded as he decided to go grab some lunch.