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Show 183 As the glorious Fourth came to an end we had a string of minor accidents, major drunks, and one badly slashed man. His silk shirt was criss-crossed with cuts, he was covered with blood, and his thumb hung by a thread. "Who did such a thing to you? " I asked as I was bathing him a few days later. "It's O. K., " he assured me. "It's my friend. He no mean nothin. " "But you will have a stiff thumb! " "It's O. K. He drunk, you see. I take him into my barber shop. I think I wash his head, he sober up. But he start spitting. He spit all over my clean towels, all over my barber shop. I don't like this. See? I tell him stop. What for you do this? He tak razor and start cutting me. It's O. K. He's my friend. " Who needs enemies ? I thought, but said nothing. A baby was brought in, a pretty little boy, but he was swollen and had a fever. Dr. Frazier was at his wits' end to know what was the matter with him. He tapped the boy's abdomen to draw off fluid. He slit the little scrotum when it looked as if it would pop. "Nurse, if this were your patient and you were the doctor, what would you do?" "I'd have a consultation with Dr. Richards, " I said. "Good answer, " he said. "Exactly what I would do. Call Dr. Richards for me, will you?" |
