“Thanks for showing me around, Hank! I’ve never been over to the Surgery department before! Well, other than on a tour… I would’ve got lost…!”
Two computer repair technicians walked through a white corridor.
“No worries, Sammohini. Let’s say hello to the charge nurse first, just in case there’s a last-minute booking before we gown up.”
They arrived at a window cut into the wall.
“Namaste, Sona. We’re doing surgery on OR3’s mouse.”
“You’re clear, Rockstar. Who’s this?”
Sammohini jumped over. “Hi! Sona! We’ve talked on the phones! Hey, I’m Sammohini. Good to put a name to the- a face to the name!” She didn’t knock over Hank, but if he hadn’t stepped out of the way to make room, she might have…
“Good to meetcha.” She looked tired and-
“Alrighty, let’s jet in there before a patient needs the room. Oh yeah… hey, Sona, can we grab a snack after we’re done?” Her focus was on patient paperwork. “Yeah.” Hank used his labcoat-covered arms to push himself off the thick metal windowsill.
They arrived at a door labeled OR3.
There was a cart beside the door with a variety of small to medium-sized boxes, with a metallic coat rack to the side. “Since this process is a little tricky, just follow my lead. If you’re flying solo, just ask any nurse in the office to help you.”
“OK! Thanks! I appreciate your help!”
Hank took his lab coat and hung it on the rack, revealing colorful tattoos running along his arms and a black concert shirt with an intricate design accentuating a Hindi word. “…Shakti?” He looked down. “Oh, they’re a great power metal band.”
They gowned up.
“Yeah, I spent a few years busking around Sindia after high school, you know, trying to figure myself out and all.” They entered the massive operating room theater. “I knew I wasn’t interested in following the old man and learn medicine…”
“Wow…!” Giant monitors lined the walls.
“…but I guess I did…!” He swung out his arms triumphantly and pointed to the humble computer sitting in the corner. “Well, the connection’s probably loose, but sometimes they complain because it gets too dirty. I bag it in a biohazard bag for effect.”
She stroked her chin.
“That’s really smart… So, I know this is your ticket, but, uhh… can I swap it?” Hank handed over the freshly unboxed mouse and bag with bright red and black symbols. “Ownership is subjective. Your go-getter attitude’s why we promoted you.”
Her face lit up. “Really?!” He nodded.
As she swapped out the mouse, Hank wandered off to the opposite side of the room to contemplate. ‘You know, Dad, we both ended up doing the same thing in life. Fixin…’ “OK, that’s all done!” She smiled as she moved the mouse cursor around.
“-Good work. Let’s tell Sona.”
“Oh, wow! A whole drawer full of candies and goodies!” Sammohini nearly started to salivate.
“Pick your favorite. Actually, have two.” Sona smiled at Hank.
|Sources: My professional experiences. I never used a biohazard bag for computer equipment, but I’ve walked around in the “moonsuit” style scrubs before. Behind the Name for Sona. Shakti was just a random idea I had; there’s already another band in a different genre, but I don’t care.|
|Inspirations: There were a bunch of dead mice tickets coming in that day.|
|Related: Somewhere in the Sammohini Arc of “The Story.”|
|Picture: Generic picture to save time.|
|Written On: September 24th [2 hours]
|Last Edited: October 6th [30 minutes] – the midsection was a little weak in the previous draft.|