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“It strips away the patient’s identity so you’ll be more docile and do what you’re told.”
“Where did you hear this?”
She shrugged. “I can’t remember.”
Rapp thought about it for a moment and said, “I’ll bet you’re right.”
“I know I am. Think about it. What do you guys do when you interrogate a terrorist? You shave their head and beard and you take away all of their clothes.” She tried to straighten the back of the gown, but it wouldn’t cooperate. She let it hang loose and asked, “Seriously, how are you doing?”
“Fine. I just want to get it over with. I hate hospitals.”
“At least you’re not here to get a bullet taken out.”
Rapp looked at her sideways. “Thanks for that happy thought.”
She put her arm around him. “Honey, everything is going to be just fine. The doctor said it’s pretty straightforward. An hour or two at the most in surgery, and then two more hours in recovery. We’ll be home by one at the latest.” She was genuinely worried about him and not for the reasons one would think. Most people going in for surgery feared the recovery and the pain that were to follow. Pain was not a problem for Mitch. She doubted he would take anything stronger than Tylenol Three for more than a day or two. The real issue was not being in charge. Mitch was such a lone wolf, he was so used to being in charge and doing things his own way, that the idea of putting himself in the hands of others was purely unnerving to him.
“I’m starving,” Rapp blurted out.
Her husband was a big eater. She reached out and ran her fingers through his thick black hair. “We’ll have to stop and get something on the way home.”
The door opened and a petite nurse entered. She was wearing blue surgical scrubs and black clogs. She held a clipboard a few inches in front of her face. “Mr. Mitchell Rapp?”
“That’s me.”
She flipped through the chart. “We’ve got you scheduled for a vasectomy this morning.”
Rapp stared back at the woman, speechless. Before he could form a sentence, the woman said, “Just kidding. My name is Deb, and I’m going to get you ready for surgery.”
Anna laughed. Mitch didn’t.
“You must be Mrs. Rapp.” The nurse stuck out her hand.
“Anna. Nice to meet you.”
“Where’d you find a big stud like this? Look at these shoulders.” The nurse stepped back and sized him up like he was a piece of beef.
“It wasn’t easy. I had to go through a lot of guys.”
“I’ll bet.”
Rapp laughed.
“Okay,” the nurse returned her attention to Rapp. “The right knee, right?”
“No.” Rapp looked alarmed. “The left.”
“I know, I know.” She waved her hand at him. “I’m just kidding. Trying to get you to relax, you know? You look so tense. Here, sit all the way up on the table.” She took out a big black marker and wrote NO on Rapp’s right knee and YES on his left knee.
“Dr. Stone is the best. He did the vice president’s knee last year.”
“I’ve met the vice president. I’m not impressed.”
“Me neither,” she whispered and rolled her eyes. “Kind of an ass if you ask me. Anyway…Dr. Stone handles all the hockey players on the Capitals. Big strong guys like you.” She grabbed him by the shoulders. “Come to think of it…you two look familiar. Are you someone important?”
“I’m nobody,” answered Rapp, “but she’s important.”
