I operate with AirPods nestled in my ears, a conduit to the hushed anxieties of the ward and urgent whispers of the ICU. They also help me dispense advice to patients who might need it urgently without having to make them wait until the end of the day. It isn’t as distracting as one might assume; it’s the equivalent of talking to your assistant about his weekend while opening up someone’s head, which is what we do when we have a brain tumour surgery on a Monday morning. Having said that, however, I often silence my phone during critical crescendos of an operation so that there are no inadvertent interruptions.

I realise that telling people you can talk on the phone while operating might unnerve some. Once, after boarding a plane, as the captain introduced himself, I recognised his name and voice and was quick to realise he was a friend. I sent him a message on his phone saying I was on the flight. He was so excited that he kept returning my messages as we were on the runway and about to take off. I finally stopped replying to calm my own nerves and be sure he’d focus.