An Exception to the Rule
“I usually talk through the procedure as I go,” I say, pulling on a pair of blue nitrile gloves. “So you aren’t surprised by anything, so you know when to expect a sensation.”
The patient is lying on the table, eyes fixed upwards. One of the ceiling panels is illuminated with the green leafy branches of a tree—an image meant to calm and soothe, though I doubt it’s doing much for this woman.
“Or I don’t have to talk,” I tell her, arranging the instruments on my sterile tray as silently as possible. “We can be quiet or chat about other things.”
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