The hospital is low on 'stuff' in general, so we have to use the old method of 'cut it off with a saw, shove something in mouth to release "chew pain". As you probably expected, on our first attempt we cut off the wrong leg.
I move your heart to a bucket. Technically, you did not specify which definition of "transplant" you needed, so I moved your heart, "from one place to another".
I have, sadly, given myself a headache from slaughtering children who were holding glass bottles filled with chloroform and ethanol, jumping on a trampoline, and reciting "L'Internationale"; backwards, in French, then forwards, in Russian, then garbled together in some dialect of Swahili, and repeating.
I am the restless haunt of DBF.
I'm in ur walls, eetin' ur pilloes! So get away from mah corn! I'm in ur cornfield, WHISPERING IN UR EARS!!!