There is a time when one is waiting for something unpleasant where one has to give up control. Henley was approaching that moment. He was offered some lunch but could not stomach it. Slightly earlier than advertised, four men approached him carrying a large wicker basket, man sized, with 4 woven handles two on each side. One of the men told him that they were there to take him up to the operating theatre. “I am sure I could probably walk “ said Henley. “That is not how it is done here” replied the man. They placed the basket on the side of the bed and helped him manouevre himself onto it. Although Henley was not particularly tall the basket was too short for him and his legs extended beyond the bottom of the basket. The men lifted him with relative ease and walked him through the ward. A couple of fellow patients wished him luck. Henley hoped sincerely that luck would have nothing to do with the outcome and that skill and good practice would prevail.

They had to go up a floor and the men at his head raised the basket to keep him level as he headed feet first up the stairs. At the top the men turned to the left and entered a room placed centrally in the building under a great skylight. Inside the room were some tiered benches like a theatre. Seated upon these were a number of ernest looking young men who Henley presumed were medical students or junior doctors. In the centre of the room was a narrow wooden table and to one side was a nurse with a tray of instruments. Henley looked at the array of metal tools that the surgeon would use. There were scalpels with long blades, a variety of what looked like long handled spoons, various curved probes and some scissors. He shuddered as his eyes settled on the end of the tray that had the saws on it. “Don’t worry we are not intending to use those” said Douglas who was watching Henley’s gaze. The men helped Henley on to the table.

Douglas took down the dressing on his foot and bathed it with a stringent smelling liquid which he later found out was dilute carbolic acid. He looked over and saw Robertson who was manning a strange piece of equipment made of brass that appeared to be emitting a fine spray of liquid. This too he found out later was carbolic acid sprayed to reduce infection as part of the antisepsis apparatus. Lister appeared in his shirtsleeves with an apron around his neck and put a reasuring hand on his shoulder. “Everything will be alright” he said. “Breathe deeply” said another voice and a hand clamped a chloroform mask to his mouth and nose. Henley had no choice but to breathe, the sickly sweet smell made him want to vomit and one second he felt a rising panic and the next he was totally unaware.