The Jesus Doctor
Drugged up on fentanyl, gabapentin and all the other delightful little goodies that were pumped into my arm, I looked up to see a vision. It wasn't very beautiful, but it was pretty damn holy. Jesus was leaning over me, surrounded with white light.

Then I blinked and came to my senses. This wasn't Jesus. Jesus was definitely not early sixties and while he may have sported a beard it certainly wasn't such a smug one. It was however the next best thing, the closest thing to God in a hospital. The top dog of neurology consultants. This man had nurses and junior doctors cowering at his every word, it was surely not unreasonable that he believed he was this important.

However although I had got the memo about this doctor not actually being Jesus... it seemed he hadn't. Due to shit treatment I was transferring from what was acclaimed as one of the best neurological treatment hospitals in England to a small hospital in Ireland, and he was here to persuade me otherwise. After pretending I wasn't really paralysed, he pointed his hand at me 'Stand up and walk.' He was pretty impatient. I thought he was joking and laughed, pointing out the paralysis. He shrugged, and said it again 'Stand up and walk towards me.' When through some obstinate will of my own (or perhaps the actual paralysis) I failed to miraculously heal, he literally turned and walked out of the room.
( Amberl was stripey and dominated Europe, Fri 12 Mar 2010, 12:42, Reply)