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isoflurane needed, which was helpful, because theisoflurane did have some mild irritant effects on breathing passageways. She then taped Carl’s eyes shut after putting in a bit of antibiotic ointment to protect his corneas from drying.
    Sandra watched the anesthesia machine with its readout of all the vital signs. Everything was in order. The takeoff had been smooth. Metaphorically they were nearing cruising altitude and soon the seat belt sign could go off. Sandra’s pulse, which had jumped considerably during the induction of anesthesia, dropped back to normal. It had been a tense few minutes, as it always was, yet it provided her a shot of euphoria of a job well done and a patient well served.
    “Everything okay?” Dr. Weaver questioned. He was eager to begin.
    Sandra gave a thumbs-up as she manually checked Carl’s blood pressure yet again. She then helped Claire put up the anesthesia screen, which would be covered with sterile drapes to isolate the patient’s head from the sterile operative field. After the screen was in place she sat back down. She was now in midflight.
    As he worked during the course of the operation, Dr. Weaver kept up a mostly one-sided conversation with everyone in the room. He talked about what he was doing technically as he fashioned the patellar graft, he talked about his kids, and he talked about his weekend house on Folly Island.
    Sandra listened with half an ear, as she imagined the scrub nurse and circulating nurse did as well. Sandra spoke up only once when there was a break in Dr. Weaver’s monologue. She took the opportunity to ask how long he thought he’d be.
    The surgeon straightened up, paused briefly, and assessed his progress. “I’d guess another forty minutes or so. It’s all going smoothly. Everything okay up there with you?”
    “Everything is fine,” Sandra said. She glanced down at her notes. The machine did the anesthesia report in contrast to the old days, but she kept her own record for her own use and to remain focused. Another forty minutes would put the total time for the procedureat just a little more than an hour and a half, meaning Dr. Weaver was acting true to form. There were other orthopedic guys who would take nearly double his time.
    Sandra moved a bit to keep her circulation going and stretched out her legs. She had the option of having someone come and relieve her for a few minutes if she so desired, but she rarely took advantage of the opportunity and wouldn’t now, even though everything was going perfectly smoothly.
    Sandra heard the sound of the drill start, meaning Dr. Weaver was creating a pathway through bone into which he would thread the patellar allograph. Knowing that the periosteum was richly enervated with pain fibers, Sandra looked up at the integrated patient monitor screen to see if there were any observable changes to suggest Carl’s level of anesthesia wasn’t what it should be. All the tracings were exactly as they had been throughout the case. She homed in on the heart rate. It was at seventy-two, without the slightest change. But as she was watching, the screen did something she had never seen it do before. It seemed to blink, as if for a split second it had lost its feed.
    A bit concerned about this blip, Sandra leaned closer to get a better look as her own pulse ratcheted upward. The idea of losing all the monitors in the middle of the case was not a happy thought. Holding her breath, she watched to see if there was another episode. A few seconds went by and then a few minutes. There wasn’t another blink.
    After five minutes she began to relax, especially since the tracings on the monitor all stayed completely normal, including the ECG. Whatever it had been clearly hadn’t happened again. The only change, and she wasn’t even sure there had been a change, was that all the tracings appeared very slightly higher on the screen than they had been, as if there had been a slight baseline or calibration change. But that