Tuesday was Pierre’s turn to cover the Brachy Therapy prostate cancer operation. He gathered his things: Radioactive Source Paperwork, Geiger Counter, Ion Chamber, Sodium Iodide Detector, Lead Pig for extra loose Brachy seeds, and of course the cart we used to haul it all down to the basement Operating Suites. The room nurse usually called us down when they were halfway done with the procedure, since before that we’d either be in the way or just standing there, waiting. Pierre grabbed his lab coat and left.
Not long later, way too not long, Pierre was back with all his stuff and more: he had all 75 Brachy Seeds, unused.
“Pierre, what’s up? What happened?”
“The guy didn’t do his prep. He shit all over the operating table. They’re supposed to do a prep, just like for a colonoscopy. They have to reschedule the whole thing. Waste of everyone’s time.”
Shocked in the Suburbs 