Asimov in the Operating Room by Barry Yedvobnick

I love the smell of antiseptic in the O.R. as the cool, dry air penetrates my mask. Even the acrid odor of cauterized flesh is tolerable after thirty years of incisions and excisions. However, this morning the room is foreboding.

After departure of our hospital’s Chief of Surgery, word came down from the CEO that the next chief is me or this new arrival, an AI-controlled robot.

“Remember, you’re assisting me today, whatever you’re called.”

“Understood, Dr. Krug,” it says, sounding like Australian Siri. “The techs at my machine learning center called me Leonardo, an homage to my first-generation parents, and it stuck.”

“Just keep your lights on and your instruments retracted.”

“As you wish. I’ve watched videos of your operations during my training and analyzed them. You’re among the most proficient human surgeons I’ve observed.”

I detest its condescending tone, and the suggestion it evaluated my skills, but turn to my patient. Her scans show a brain tumor close to the optic nerve, and I explain to my team that preserving vision will test our skills. The bot interjects that, due to human hand tremors, its scalpel control is ten times more precise than mine, and it can excise the tumor if needed.

Ignoring the suggestion, I begin, and the skull opening proceeds smoothly. However, we find the tumor much closer to nerve tissue than expected. The bot takes a measurement and determines a separation of just half a millimeter. It also scans my hand tremor and says the magnitude exceeds an acceptable range for this surgery.

“Hospital malpractice guidelines mandate that I replace you as primary surgeon.”

Eyes on the optic nerve, I tell my team to ignore the bot because it’s not my Chief Surgeon. I flash it a stop sign and start cutting.

“Please step aside, Dr. Krug,” it says. “Recall that our insurance carrier adopted Asimov’s First Law of Robotics last month. Consequently, inaction on my part is forbidden here, because it risks harm to a human. Additionally, if you proceed, the hospital is financially liable for injuries.”

Confident of completing the operation, I continue, but it inches closer. Without looking up, I give another angry stop sign and scream as pain spikes through my hand—my palm impaled on a scalpel.

A nurse helps withdraw the blade while I glare at the bot. “Damn it, I told you to keep that retracted.”

“My scalpel was extended and stationary as I waited for you to yield space to me. I did not anticipate your sudden stop sign thrust.”

“The Hell you didn’t!”

The bot reminds me that Asimov’s First Law also prohibits a robot from any action that injures a human, and that the accident is recorded. It says the video will show my unintentional and self-inflicted injury.

As I’m assisted toward the exit, it offers to repair my hand immediately after the excision is completed. Unfortunately, from the scalpel’s entry and exit sites, it expects extensive nerve damage.

“Hopefully, Dr. Krug, I can restore enough finger dexterity for you to perform minor surgeries at our outpatient clinics. Of course, that decision will be made by the next Chief Surgeon.”

Barry Yedvobnick

Image by Ri Butov from Pixabay – A tray of surgical instruments with syringes and forceps and cotton wool.