by Juliane Ibrahim

Created on: December 14, 2009   Last Updated: September 09, 2010

“We’re ready for you, Doctor.”         

Dr. Robertson nodded in reply and quickly finished washing his hands. He glanced at the clock which read 11:24 PM, and headed back to his office to prepare. He looked into the mirror at his reflection, combing his hair and fixing his collar. He had a reputation, the best reputation in the county. He was a good doctor, a great doctor, the best doctor. He handled his tools like an artist would a paint brush, perfecting his masterpieces. He was respected and known all around. He was good, and he knew it. He glanced one last time at his reflection and smirked, pleased at all his accomplishments. He married a woman perfect as himself, and together, had an even more perfect child. He raised his son with discipline and respect, while giving him everything a boy would want. He never worried about paying the bills, never worried about losing his job; he never worried about anything. The doctor had it all. Two minutes had passed while he was daydreaming, and he quickly headed back to his station. As he entered, all the nurses were lined up in order, ready for the operation, just as he liked it. He was right on time, as always. He looked down at his motionless patient, grabbed his first tool, and began.    

Everything was going smoothly as he worked his way through the operation. He handled the tools with confidence and care, not breaking a single sweat. When he finally finished, he looked at the clock which read 12:30 PM. A perfect hour had passed since he had started. Pleased at finishing right on time, he expressed a smile, looked down at his patient, and congratulated himself on the job well done, as everyone around him were soon doing. Cries of “well done Doctor”, “excellent job, sir” were filling the room.

After the numerous pats on the back, he headed back down the corridor to prepare for the ride home. He always worked long hours, and was happy his shift was finally over. He knew that the few doctors there at the hospital were occupied with other patients, and he was relieved he could go home and get a peaceful night’s rest without any disturbance. Just as he was heading out, he heard a desperate cry for help.

“Can you please help us Doctor?! Doctor! A young boy has had a car accident, and is in dying need of medical assistance!”

Dr. Robertson sighed and uncomfortably turned back around to the frantic cries.

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