The Doctor is In…

The patient lay there bleeding. Unconscious and unaware of the dire situation, and triage merely a band-aid, the patient needed a specialist. One from the crowd ran in fear, the liquid oozing from the orifice not a pretty site. “Someone call 911” came a scream.

A band of white glad clad angels descended on the scene. “Quick, this patient needs surgery,” one was heard to say. The angels went to work, stabilizing and prepping as if heaven guided their hands. In a hushed whisper an angel spoke, “This does not look good, something is wrong with its heart, doctor better hurry.”

Now stabilized, yet oozing through the gauze, the patient lay in wait. The sound of metal objects clinking and clattering was the last sound the patient heard and the last conscious thought, “The doctor must be here.” 

The band of white clad angels dissipated as the doctor enters the room. With purpose in his stride and confidence on his face he approached the patient. “Oh, this is not that bad, we can replace this damaged heart.” Little did he know?

The doctor went to work. In his gentle way he entered the patient’s chest and laid aside that which covered the heart. Methodically he approached the damaged part, twisting and turning until his hands had grasped the damaged heart. But the damaged part had a mind of its own, it did like the doctors’ hands.

With the patient, now on life support, and no sustaining liquid running through its veins; the doctor tried to extract that which was damaged. He held it in his hands and twisted to make that final cut, to separate good from bad. The heart did not oblige, it broke before the cut could be made.

The doctor began to panic. “We cannot replace but half a heart must get that remaining piece.” Sweat began to pour down his brow as he tried every tool on the tray. Twisted in every position and still the piece of heart would not budge. “We will go old school,” the doctor declared and reached for a drawer.

The moment he turned around a group gasp filled the room, he had retrieved an old surgical saw. “Do not fear, it is the only way,” he quieted the room and went back to the patient.

One lone angel was not so sure and asked the doctor if this was best. “I have no choice he will die if I cannot replace his heart.” He turned grasped hold of the piece of heart and began to saw. “Doctor his vitals are waning you must hurry,” an assistant proclaimed.

The doctor sawed in frenzy. He twisted and turned the broken piece of heart, then sawed some more, until finally the piece of heart broke free. A cheer erupted from the gallery and the doctor let out a sigh. “Now give me that new heart, let’s get this guy back to flushing.”

Yes, you heard me right. The patient was my toilet and the heart its flush valve. I apparently have more strength than I know, broke the thing off in a manner I had to hack saw the stem off. Three hours later and a new flush valve in, the patient can now once again flush.

Peace…

I’ll be late getting to everyone today, have to meet a man about some drawings. $$$

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