“You guys go ahead and finish up here,” I say as I step away from the operating table and head out into the hall, removing my mask and snapping off my surgical gloves before tossing them in the hazardous waste receptacle by the door. I trust my team to wrap up the surgery, to take care of final details before moving the man to the recovery room. I struggled to maintain my focus during this two-hour procedure. It’s imperative that each patient gets my very best care. More than once I wanted to step away to check on my ‘houseguest’ via the video feed on my phone. I pretend to move things around in my locker while two fellow surgeons banter about their weekend sexual conquests. I feel sorry for them as they describe the lengths they went to just to woo women into their beds. They don’t have the balls to just take what they want like I did. I’m considering telling them to get the fuck out when they finally wander off and I’m alone.
