Over lunch, three reconstructive surgeons compared there greatest successes.
The first described a terrible interstate pile-up after which he was asked to "do his best" for a young man who presented with multiple displaced fractures in both legs above and below the knee. "After nearly 12 hours in surgery and oved two years of physical therapy, that boy is attending an Ivy League college on a track scholarship" the doctor proudly announced.
The second surgeon expressed his admiration of the first doctor's skill, but then related how he had performed a series of surgeries on the face of a teenaged girl who had been ejected head first through the windshield of a friend's car when it was hit head-on by a drunk driving in the wrong lane. "That sweet face" he said softly "was named Miss Ohio last year."
Both doctors who had described their greatest surgical accomplishments turned expectantly toward the third, but he said nothing and wore a grim expression as he ordered another martini.
"So, how about you?" they prodded.
The third surgeon took a deep pull from the fresh drink and, obviously with great pain, said "Eight years ago, after a private plane crash, they brought me what was left of the plane's owner. All I had to work with was a pair of wingtips, a red necktie and a YUGE anal sphincter. That man" he said after draining his drink " lives in the White House today."
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