I know that this is an emergency situation and we here at Sacred Heart Hospital are bound by the Hippocratic Oath to do everything we can to help those in need, but I simply cannot do this. Someone else needs to help that poor young car accident victim. I can’t operate on that boy, because…he is my son! Also, I am not a surgeon.
Truth be told, I shouldn’t have really operated on anyone tonight.
I just wandered in here after a costume party in which I got a little tipsy. You guys let me perform a number of surgeries and even a prostate exam since I have been here, and honestly I think ? I nailed them, but I can’t do that kid. Against the rules.
Just because I drank five sambuca and sodas while dressed as McDreamy from season three of Grey’s Anatomy, wandered out of my office party, walked into Sacred Heart Hospital in search of another sambuca, and into an operating room where a 70-year-old woman was prepped for a laparoscopy, flawlessly inserted a digital rigid endoscope, and had a surgical assistant close her up while the observation deck gave me a round of applause does not mean I can help this boy. He’s my son!
I’m aware it is probably unprofessional to have scrubbed up after the laparoscopy and assumed that a nurse would be bringing me a sambuca to freshen up, only to get called in for a gunshot wound and spend three intense hours telling a dying man that he had never given up on anything and dammit, he’s not going to give up now.
In many ways, I think this reflects more on Sacred Heart hospital than it does on me and my son, who I will not operate on under any circumstances, due to the professional ethics I swore to when I put on this McDreamy costume.
Listen, if you have like, a tonsillectomy that needs doing on a non-family member of mine or maybe some ouzo or even grappa, I’m perfectly willing to stick around, just someone needs to save that boy’s life, who again is my son.
Now how about that ouzo?