A man, who detested the blaring wails of sirens, found himself behind the steering wheel of an ambulance.
"Are you a doctor?" quivered a voice from the ambulance's rear.
"Somewhat," he replied, aware that his medical license was technically suspended. However, he chose not to reveal that to the patient, as he didn't agree with the Medical Board's decision. "How can I help?"
"I believe I'm having a heart attack," the man said, clutching his chest.
He had encountered numerous patients with similar symptoms before. However, his own assessment suggested that the man was grappling with a panic attack stemming from excessive worry. "Let me share both good and bad news," he began. "You're not experiencing a heart attack, but there's an issue related to your brain."
"A tumour?" Fear quivered in his voice.
"No," he replied, trying to hold back his laughter. "Don't worry, it's a treatable condition."
"Treatable? How?" The man's eyes widened, uncertain about the journey ahead.
"Just a brief procedure," he reassured, brushing off the concern. "I can even do it here."
"I'll do anything to get better!" the man exclaimed; his desperation evident.
Anxiety often led people to intriguing decisions. Despite the man's distress and years of caution, he was now entrusting his life to an ambulance attendant posing as a doctor.
"Close your eyes," the attendant instructed. Even with time away from the theatre, he didn't seem too worried.
Arrogance?
...
"We've reached the hospital," the ambulance attendant announced.
"Okay" the man replied.
He contemplated, debating whether to provide a post-op explanation. But the patient too concerned about a post-op. "You're free to leave, whenever."
As the man stepped out of the ambulance, the attendant settled into his seat. Reclined back in his, staring at the ceiling. Suddenly, a knock on the window shattered his thoughts. An overly enthusiastic nurse stood outside, signalling him to lower the window.
"The Board would like to see you," she cheerfully stated, her demeanour contrasting sharply with the gravity of the situation.
Though one might expect him to approach this meeting with a heavy heart, the surgeon remained stoic. He entered the meeting room, facing a panel of senior doctors whose scrutinising gazes filled the room with tension.
"Regrettably, we've decided to suspend your license indefinitely," one of the doctors admitted, his tone tinged with a hint of relief.
"And the reason?" he asked.
Another doctor chimed in; with apprehension. "You led a patient down the wrong path."
"You performed an excessive procedure," another doctor interjected, "and may I ask how you managed that with just a scalpel?"
The surgeon stood firm. "What alternative would you propose? Suggest therapy or flood him with medications?"
One doctor erupted in anger. "You're no doctor."
"I saved him," the surgeon countered.
"Should we amputate an entire arm for a broken finger?"
"That's not a fair comparison," He lashed back. "My job is to ease people's pain."
"I see you have no remorse, you're nothing but an animal."