The boy nodded.
“And did he poke a needle into your gum so it wouldn’t hurt when he drilled into your tooth?” Dr. Barsch asked.
Gene nodded solemnly. Sally, who had come in with the boy, and Helen turned him over on his side and bent his legs up to meet his chest.
“Well, we’re going to do the same thing now. We’re only going to hurt you enough to make you say, ‘ouch’.”
Gene interrupted Dr. Barsch by saying, “Ouch!”
“That’s it, Gene,” Dr. Barsch said. “You’re going to feel something else, now. Your toes will get all numb. Then your legs, and then your tummy. Now, I have a feather, and I’m going to tickle your tummy. You tell me when you can’t feel it any longer.”
Sally drew the curtain across the boy’s abdomen so that he couldn’t see below his chest. Then she took her station by Gene’s head. Smiling down at him, she tousled his hair. “Feel kind of sleepy, don’t you?” she asked.
“It still tickles,” Gene murmured.
On the other side of the curtain, Dr. Barsch had made the incision. He smiled and silently gave thanks for the anesthetic which made a deep abdominal wound feel like a tickle. But his smile disappeared when he reached the appendix.
“Oh, brother!” Ted said, shaking his head. Jean glanced at the open wound and began to sketch rapidly.