Those few inches of face between your mask and blue bonnet can speak volumes to your OR brethren without you having to say a word.

Forehead. Some of us are blessed with a wonderful vertical crease between the eyebrows. The older I get, the more I want to put that crease to its fullest potential. It's the key to my "Now you've done it" expression. Because it lets you look mad all the time, people tend to not mess with you.

Pronounced horizontal creases across the forehead, however, make you seem worried in a "You've just hurt my feelings and I'm about to cry" look. Not a good look, as it violates my 2 rules about emotions on the job: there's no crying in the OR, and big girls don't cry (unless it's to their advantage.)

Eyebrows. Expressive eyebrows are significant. Arching one while the other remains stationary says, "Did you really just do what I saw you do?" without a word. Have to be well-groomed, though. If you've got a unibrow going on, get yourself to a salon for some plucking, waxing or threading action.

Eyes. The eyes have it, hands down. They're the center of attention. Those peepers shout anything and everything going on in your mind. The bigger, the louder. I learned a lot of eye contact techniques by watching the pros early in my career. A few classics:

• Drop-dead eye roll. There have been occasions I've done this so many times I got dizzy, especially when it was followed by closing my eyes and shaking my head.
• Side glance. Laterally, always with eyes narrowed into slits. Like Scarlett O'Hara in Gone With the Wind.
• Vacant stare. There's something going on, far, far away. I can hear your tirade, but my brain is on break until I stop hearing it.
• Icy cold stare-down. I particularly like this one. Stop in mid-action, focus your gaze over your mask on the intended target, work the vertical crease and acquire direct eye contact. Hold it. Bang — offender is backing down.
• Wide-eyed "oh crap." When you forgot to do something, or did something you were hoping would escape notice. Like getting caught mimicking or making hand gestures behind the surgeon's back.
• Can't take my eyes off you. You're so enamored of another member of the surgical team that you lock eyes during conversation and your hearing diminishes to the point that all you hear is blah, blah, blah coming out of their mouth.
• Feral stare. I'm going to scratch your eyes out. My eyes are narrowed. Every crease in my forehead, nose and around my eyes is furrowed. My hands might even be forming claws. If you should happen to turn around and catch me in this stare, however, I'll revert immediately to wide-eyed "oh crap."
• Eyes twinkling with tears. Two situations. (1) Tears are the only escape from a mess you've dug yourself into. Which I don't advise on account of my rules (see above). Or, (2) you are laughing so hard, any body fluid, including tears, might escape. Of the two, I only support the second. If you find yourself in a work situation where it occurs once in a while, I recommend staying there.

Loud and clear
There you have it, your guide to using facial expressions to get your point across. Remember, unless you're a physician, the OR isn't the place to unleash a raving, screaming, obscenity-laced torrent in response to surgery's more difficult moments. Let the area from the bridge of your nose to the top of your forehead do the talking.