Sweat beaded on Warren’s forehead, but he dare not do a thing. That would break scrub. A real surgeon would command, “Dab!” and a nurse would sponge the salty moisture for him. But, as a medical student no one listens.
The surgeon said something about retraction, and Warren checked his grip. The patient groaned, and her husband said something encouraging. Warren marveled at how much more quickly this operation was going than the one the intern did.
One more deftly maneuvered cut, and Dr. Wiersma was fishing tiny arms and legs out of the exposed uterus. Like a gory magic trick he produced a squirming, purplish, mewing baby covered in a thick white substance that looked vaguely and disgustingly like the filling from an Oreo. The surgeon and the residents laughed, relieved at the success. A tall female resident scooped a glob of the white substance with her gloved finger and wiped it on Warren’s arm.
“Congratulations,you’re christened!” she said.
“What’s that?”
“It’s baby cheese. You’re welcome.”