Margin of Error – Part 3

Abraham groaned. “And be sure of this. If there’s a leak, even God can’t help us.” He drew a labored breath, tried to relax, and turned back to Helen. “I assume you’ve got local anesthetic like Lidocaine or Marcaine.”

Helen slipped a bottle from her pocket and held it up. “Lidocaine. More than enough.”

“Okay then, if you really feel it’s necessary,” Abraham said. “But do me first. You know I hate this sort of thing.”

Helen nodded and motioned for Abraham to lie down on her workbench. “Pull up your shirt and undo your belt.”

Abraham slipped off his shoes and climbed on the worktable. He stretched out his six-foot frame supine, hiked his shirt, and lowered his jeans to below hip level.

“The appendix area, right?” he asked.

“So, it’ll look like an appendectomy if anyone ever asks,” Helen said.

She began gathering her tools and motioned for Sean to pour some sterile disinfectant solution over Abraham’s lower abdomen. When done, she injected an area of skin five inches square with plenty of local anesthetic.

The room was sweltering. Abraham wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and closed his eyes. He tried to think of something positive, anything that would quell the churning in his gut.

Helen leaned over and inhaled. Then she reached down and made her incision.