An image I won't forget.

When they wheeled me into the OR I naturally took a look around. There were people burbling about everywhere, two clocks on the wall(one with the time, one to time the surgery), a lot of impressive white machinery around the very narrow operating table, and a large black screen on the wall.

The anesthesiologist began running through the Checklist (this is Atul Gwande's hospital and they use it rigorously), and I replied "That is correct!" to my name, birthdate, and procedure description. Then the surgeon breezed up and held a geiger-counter to my left armpit, and I heard my signal lymph node signalling. "Good," she said, "No blue dye needed."

And then she swept over to the large black screen, waved her hand (no unsanitary buttons here!) and the screen came alive with various images of my breast.

And she froze before them in absolute concentration.

It was tremendously reassuring to have that be the last thing I really saw other than the oxygen mask.