It took one human error to take my leg and one human error to take my mother's.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
It once amused me that it took me three tries to pass my driver's test and that my driving instructor told my mother that I was the least talented person behind the wheel that she had ever taught.
Operating-room errors hold a special terror for patients, if only because they seem like the most avoidable kind of complications. The occasional horror stories of patients who have the wrong leg removed or the wrong knee replaced generate the most headlines, as do tales of patients whose identities are mixed up entirely.
You can almost say that a design error is a human error because, after all, it's we humans who do the designing.
We strive for error-free medicine in a world that is sometimes all too human.
To err is human - and to blame it on a computer is even more so.
My first attempts to transmit typhus to laboratory animals, including the smaller species of monkeys, had failed, as had those of my predecessors, for reasons which I can easily supply today.
My doctor told me I would never walk again. My mother told me I would. I believed my mother.
One of the most dangerous forms of human error is forgetting what one is trying to achieve.
Both my parents were doctors, and my mother had her surgery in the house. There were six children.
I have two doctors, my left leg and my right.
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