Saturday, 18 January 2014


Sunday's clouds, heavy with the burden of snow, skid by at a speed that belies their weight; they mask any hope of daytime sun.  Driven on chilling winds, the snow swirls like a whirling dervish.  A great day to finally get at that book, he muses.

No sooner does this welcome thought cross his mind when the peaceful silence is shattered by his phone's urgent ring.  To quell the unwelcome disturbance, he reluctantly answers.  Yes, I see.  His brow furrows.  And how did this happen?  Ah! Is the patient in much pain?  Concern radiates his gentle face as he strains to hear the answer.  You'd better bring him in then.

Must be serious to cause them to leave the warmth of home today, he mutters as he makes preparations for the patient's arrival.

An icy gust assaults him as he opens the door to two anxious faces and their precious bundle, wrapped warmly in a heavy blanket.  Follow me.  He leads the forlorn party to the table.  I'm going to examine him here, he gently explains as he carefully lifts the patient to the table.  Eyes widen as the ragged gash on the patient's arm is revealed.  After carefully examining the angry wound, he turns to the frightened faces and calmly states, I can handle this here.  I am going to clean the wound and then stitch it up.  About twenty stitches, I would think.  His confidence creates a small measure of relief.  You may remain during the procedure if you wish.

Competent hands begin to stitch the wound closed.  He can feel their worried stares as each stitch is neatly tied off.  Surgery completed, a loving smile appears on his face.  He will live.

With an infectious yelp of glee, Morgan grabs her teddy bear and clasps him to her heart.  Grampa, you saved him!

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