Ontology

ONTOLOGY Water drips from the hairs on my arms, hands held high to avoid contamination. I can’t wait to begin. I guess this Adrenalin rush is what an actor feels before he strides on stage. A nurse helps me don my gown. I pull on my gloves. Surgeon, king of my domain. Minions adjust the mirrored overhead light. I grasp my scalpel. Fractured images explain the process to juniors. Jokey. Calm. I’m floating on the easy insouciance of experience. My patient’s elective surgery’s wasn’t serious. But my satisfied smile morphs into emergency paddles. A flat line – cardiac arrest. Attempts to revive him fail. I curse, jolted by this unexpected loss. Nothing to warrant my sense of guilt. And how might I explain to his devastated family? The theatre doors burst open. His wife, wild-eyed. Shouting. My husband came to me in the waiting-room. Out of his body. Saying you think he’s dead. Doctor, do something… Before we can hustle her out, my patient’s pulse resumes beating. It doesn’t make sense. Colour rushes back into his face. Nothing makes sense.