"I'd be a poor surgeon indeed if I could not observe this without feeling ill, Doctor." After the man with a penchant for inserting objects easily shattered by the internal pressures of the body in places where they most certainly should not have been inserted; the exploding cadavers in the morgue, and the woman with maggots in her gangrenous back wound; very little would bother her in this regard.

All the same she lets her head loll back against the pillows, letting him work without scrutiny. She knows well enough that were she treating a physician she wouldn't want them bothering her while she works.