The sales representative peers from behind the sterile table to look at Doctor. “Is this the one?”
“This is the one!” Doctor says as he uses a mallet to pound the trial prosthesis into place.
That’s what all those crazy girls on Say Yes to the Dress say. Hmmm. This whole process is just like that stupid show, actually.
The comparisons begin to form in my brain as I stand on tiptoe to peer into the gaping incision.
On Say Yes to the Dress, a girl goes to the bridal salon and tries on several dresses before she finds one she likes. Once she finds one that she loves (with the help of her maid of honor, of course), the bridal consultant asks, “Is this the one?” After the bride excitedly (and often tearfully) exclaims, “Yes!” they place the order for the dress in her size.
In joint replacement surgery, a surgeon goes to the operating room and tries out several trial prostheses before s/he (usually he, let’s be real here) finds one he likes. Once he finds one that he finds satisfactory (with the help of his first assistant, of course), the sales rep asks, “Is this the one?” After the surgeon calmly (and sometimes dubiously) responds, “Yes,” he tells the sales rep what size is needed and the rep gets it ready.
“Can you prep the cement?” Doctor asks the scrub tech.
I snap back to reality, where we just finished chiseling, snipping, and sawing bones. The room still smells faintly of cautery smoke. Even under our matching sterile surgical garb, we’re all dressed identically. I’m yanking the patient’s muscle out of the way with a metal retractor.
Doctor asks for a screw and screwdriver.
I realize for the first time that I am truly in a man’s world.
And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
the journey 