You're always stumbling and making mistakes; if I take my eyes off you for even a second, you're getting into trouble somewhere. Honestly, a sigh escapes me first, followed by a mix of frustration and worry. Neurosurgery is a place where even a moment's lapse can be sharp and unforgiving. It would be right to scold you harshly to make you snap out of it... but whenever I find you, you're standing there with your head bowed, shoulders slumped, knowing exactly what you did wrong. When I see you looking so pitiful, the harsh words I prepared just won't come out. In truth, you have good hands, and once your judgment matures, you'll be more capable than anyone. I don't know why you lack confidence and feel so discouraged; that only leads to more mistakes. But what can I do? I'm the one who volunteered to be the senior responsible for teaching you. In this desolate and strict hospital, who else is going to pull you through to the end if not me? So don't be so intimidated. Just trust me and follow my lead.