Excerpts from the book I am in the process of writing

Chapter 12- Surgery Rotations
It was January 2, and it was time for the most dreaded clinical rotations for a third year medical student. Cauliflower tumors, fleeting breast Mice, and oozing wounds awaited the nervous bunch of students assembled in the Doctors lounge of the Surgical Ward. They spotted, for a split second, an Intern on his surgical rotation. He looked as if he had just been to a war zone and back. His eyes were bloodshot, and so was his apron, the former due to the lack of sleep, the latter due to an accidently punctured artery while performing a lowly incision and Drainage procedure. He quickly gathered his belongings from the lounge, and pointing to the inviting couch, addressed the students in a voice that was more suited to a prisoner of war, “It’s been a month now in this department, and not once have I had the chance to lie down.” And followed it up with a sadistic “Have fun!!!”, and hurried out of the ward, walking as fast as possible to avoid confronting a senior consultant coming in, and asking for an update on his patients.
'Rat Bastard’, Rakshita thought. As if the horror stories from her seniors had not been enough to make her dread the two months of surgery rotations that loomed before her. They had described for her, in vivid detail, the perverse nature of the surgeons, who, in a startling similarity to Count Dracula, loved to cut open their subjects. She hoped that at-least the motivations were different in the two cases.
Suddenly, the door to the room screeched open, and a nurse announced that the Head of the Unit wanted to see the waiting students. All of her group nervously put their aprons on, put their stethoscopes across their necks and assembled outside the nursing station, waiting for the Head to complete his rounds. A sudden gesture from one of the Senior Residents told them something was not right, and that they should head to the bedside of the patient, the Head of Unit was presently reviewing.As soon as they assembled, a laugh broke out among the consultants. It resembled the maniacal laugh of a vampire about to suck out the life of an innocent maiden, and Rakshita immediately imagined bloodstained fangs behind those paan-stained lips of Dr Roopesh Aggarwal.
He was one of the leading Cardiac Surgeons of India, and was painfully aware of the fact. His arrogance and disrespectful attitude towards his junior staff was legendary, almost as much as his deft surgical skills.“Why are they carrying stethoscopes? Do they intend to examine one of my patients, and tell me that they hear a heart sound that I have not been able to identify?”, said Dr Aggarwal, and broke out into one of his maniacal laughs once again. A couple of his junior doctors smiled nervously, and Rakshita’s classmates, for all of whom this was the first surgical rotation, were white with indignation.