The story so far:
It was a long drive there, and it would be an even longer drive back.
The Doctor climbs out of her vehicle and marches across the gravel car park towards the entrance with fierce assertion. She has a briefcase by her side; a pad and pen in her pocket; her big juicy brain is ready for the picking. To the left and right of her she notices business men and women; patients and their careers; laborers atop the building; budding criminals beneath the cracks.
She walks by the people and thinks she is better than they are; an inner sin of pride is nothing to compare to the good she does every day. The Doctor’s positive attributes and contribution to society outweigh hers which is negative; they outweigh any good done by her neighbors.
She has chosen a path more noble than most; she is indiscriminately a healer of the sick; a savior of lives. For every year the murderer spends behind bars; the wrath of humanity behind him; the Savior stands high beyond the throne; escalated above those lives she has graciously saved.
The path leads her not to worship the riches and rewards of this life; nor those promised by religion in the afterlife. Her incentive is not materialistic but internal; the love she feels for herself with each life saved is worth so much more.
Behold: she has put herself high upon the mantle; but forgets she is human also; this woman does not control the weather.
She walks on ferociously eyes straight ahead; neither looking right nor left; above or below; and without warning the laborer’s toolbox falls.
Very slowly the Doctor wakes in a hospital bed and realizes she is alive – it has been a long time. She tries to recall the incident, but her brain fails her. Her colleagues come to her bedside and she opens her mouth to speak; but her speech is jolted, obscure; something is very wrong.
They speak to her in plain English, and she manages a word at a time but cannot join their sentences together. At first she suspects the drugs they have her on are affecting her brain function; but as time carries on and her husband visits she gathers not an idea but the sense her body has been injured; this fills her with unthinkable horror.
Paralyzed, she watches her man embrace the doctors uttering indecipherable thanks. Even though they look at her with anguish they are glad she is alive. She has been saved. To them the worst has not happened.
The Patient’s eyes shrink fearfully around the room. In no corner does she find the help she requires. Minutes and months go by like years and centuries; all in all a profound life lesson has been learned; sometimes a killer could be a savior and … vice-versa.