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Creative story in short

Creative Story: In Short

It all started not so long ago. In fact, though I can't be completely

sure about it, I think it was only five months ago. My name is Jeff Washburn

and I am a surgeon. Not that long ago my life under went a huge change.

Unfortunately a huge misfortune had to take place first. Not that long ago, I

had a terrible thing happen to me. A misfortune led to my being expelled from

the hospital and my medical license being revoked. Two patients died on me. I

might have gotten away with only one but the board of directors are good at

finding patterns. Don't get me wrong, I want these people to die. I just

happened to be drunk at the time. Now I drink even more just to soften the

constant hangover. The hearing were probably the worst part of whole ordeal.

Three weeks of being put in the spotlight.

Every inch of my life was put under a big magnifying glass. Every mistake I

made in the last fourteen years was read bunch of know-nothings who sit and

pretend to run a hospital. The mistakes weren't very frequent, at least, not

until I started to drink.

I suppose you want to know the reason I started to drink. Well, I mess

up big time during a triple bypass and killed a patient. That's when the

drinking started and the drinking lead to the death of another patient. Now I

drink even more and remember even less which means its working.

About a month ago I left England, which is where I worked, and moved

here to a small fishing island off the coast of France. There is no doctor on

the island so they welcomed me, sort of. I scare them I suppose. They're afraid

they might catch me when I'm to drunk to work properly.

But now things are different. About three weeks ago I had a big wake-up

call. I was sitting in my normal Sunday drunken stupor when a man was brought in

to my office. This man had been seriously injured by gun shot wounds.

Apparently he had be found in the ocean by a group of fishermen. I knew that I

could not perform the necessary surgery in my present condition. I bandaged him

up and stooped the major bleeding. Then I took two hours and did all I could to

dry out. With my condition a little better I performed the most delicate

surgery of my life. For another hour I scrubbed at the wound in his head.

Cleaning it as best I could. One wrong stroke and it would be all over. Any

evidence of intoxication still left in me disappeared at that point more out of

fear then need. Once his head was cleaned I made a small incision and attempted

to remove the bullet that was lodged inside. I then closed up the wound. From

there it was touch and go. He had a fifty percent chance of living. For the

next two weeks I tried my best to stay sober. When I couldn't stay sober I at

least cut down the amount I drunk.

Then one day he woke up. We started a small conversation in which I

asked him his name. Amnesia. He had amnesia. I tried to help him remember

anything I could about his old life. And in some respects we made some progress.

I thought it was finally time for him to leave. I gave him whatever money I

could muster up and he went off in search of his life.

It wasn't till after he left that I realized I had not taken one drink

since he woke up. And ever since I have been sober. It stuck me then that some

people can have a very big effect on other people. Since he left I was rehired

by the hospital. I am doing pretty good for my self and I just hope my former

patient is finding what he was searching for.

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