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Show CHRYSALIS pA G E 125 -12- Doctor Sontag, excising a second spot for biopsy under local anesthesia, makes a small incision in my arm and accidentally severs an artery. Blood spurts, and spurts, and spurts with each heart-heartbeat, covering his gloves, his chest, his table, his nurse, and his wall. "Oooops," he says, never dropping a stitch, never losing his poise. I am embarrassed at having made such a mess, although I know very well it was not my fault. The nurse, in a stiffening red gown, applies a pressure bandage to my incision to stop the profuse bleeding. Time was, back in prehistoric days, the skulls of ancient |