A Case of Need [antikvár]

MONDAY OCTOBER 10 ONE ALL HEART SURGEONS ARE BASTARDS, and Conway iS no excepdon. He came storming into the path lab at 8:30 in the morning, still wearing his green surgical gown and cap, and he was furious. When Conway is mad he clenches his teeth and speaks through them in a flat monotone. His face turns red, with purple blotches at the temples. "Morons," Conway hissed, "goddamned morons." He pounded the wall with his fist; bottles in the cabinets rattled. We all knew what was happening. Conway does two open-heart procedures a day, beginning the first at 6:30. When he shows up in the path lab two hours later, there's only one reason. "Stupid clumsy bastard," Conway said. He kicked over a wastebasket. It rolled noisily across the floor. "Beat his brains in, his goddamned brains," Conway said, grimacing and staring up at the ceiling as if addressing God. God, like the rest of us, 11