Wormald At the desk in his office holding the elbows on the table and chin resting on the knuckles. Something afflicted him, a veil of sadness passed over her eyes before looking into the face of his interlocutor.
Anna was once again repeating the whole story, and once again did not change a comma in the whole story. Something must be slipping because given the assumptions the conclusion could not be what occurred. Not again.
intervention had gone perfectly, he was charged, but if it were not so wanted to take part. He felt as if its upper floors were beginning to oust him from his research, his life.
"The operation was magnificent, not an error, not a flaw. Engraving, cutting, resection, closure, all run to the thousandth of a second from all the staff. Something must have happened after that. Something in bandages. O in assay . .. O.. Anna continued with her litany.
"No, nothing to do with Anna, she performs only orders. He knows nothing. Do not ask questions. The variable must be another one." The thoughts continued to flow uninterrupted through the mind of Wormald when he noticed the silence that had fallen into the room.
Anna was staring at him, he had finished speaking. Although tired after a long day, his eyes were alive and still. He knew he had no guilt for what had happened.
"Nurse Stevenson, may kindly repeat that in time the inspections carried out?"
"At 15, with 17 and 19. Everything was in order: I checked the bandages and replaced the drip. In the space of 21, when I arrived, the patient did not breathe.". Wormald
resumed the flow of thought and its expression was struck for a moment the nurse: it was not that of a distraught doctor for a loss, as if that failed it was just a meaningless number. "Doctor, if you do not have any other questions I would go home. My turn is over an hour ago."
"Yes nurse, goes well. Thank you, see you tomorrow.".
"See you tomorrow.".
The room sank back into silence.
"And this time we are at thirty. I'd better hurry to get it back before it is no longer recoverable."
