Only those of fertile imagination, competent genius and excessive credulity can one render great work as a healer – Interactions of a Frontier Medical Doctor

Operation Menu: Phase Dinner (UNKNOWN)

FRAGO: Operation: Marianne's Vigil (UNKNOWN)

Estelle’s vision gradually cleared from the blackness, revealing a woman with disheveled golden straw hair staring down at her.

“You brought me all the way back to the beginning, didn’t you?” Estelle thought.

She waited for a response, but none came.

Undeterred, Estelle continued, “I can’t believe I stepped on a psychometry landmine...sloppy Estelle...very sloppy."

Her mind began to wander, reminiscing about the traps her sister used to set around the house for her.

Estelle recognized the signs of a mental labyrinth, but uncertainty lingered. Was she ensnared in her own mind, or had she entered the mind of her adversary? Each possibility presented unique challenges for escape, yet both shared a common dilemma. Rescue was unlikely; a century could elapse here while only a second passed in real time.

“One wrong step, and I might be trapped here forever. I must discern my whereabouts before devising a counter. For now, I'll play along,” Estelle thought.

The woman tenderly caressed Estelle's head, a comforting warmth enveloping her as a man with brown hair leaned in to kiss the mother on her lips. He then bestowed a gentle kiss upon the baby's forehead. Estelle felt a soothing sensation coursing through her tiny body.

“Have you decided on a name for our little princess?” he asked.

The mother, cradling the baby in her arms, smiled up at him.

“Sabine, after my mother. Do you like that, Princess Bine?” she asked, running her finger under the baby’s chin.

Estelle found herself smiling, and the mother reciprocated the gesture. As the mother spoke, Estelle felt her tiny hand reach up, holding onto the man's finger.

“Hun, I have to finish my rounds, but I’ll come check up on you later, okay?” he said, smiling at them. “You are going to make a fine doctor someday. Just like me and your grandfather.”

“Fine doctor indeed,” Estelle thought.

“You will be the best,” her mother whispered in her ear.

Sabine closed her eyes, embraced by the warmth of the moment.

***

Sabine took a few wobbly steps forward; her knees shook as her father held out his hands to catch her. The toddler stumbled into his waiting arms, and he scooped her up, planting a big kiss on the girl's cheek.

“Keep it up, and you'll be running marathons like mommy,” the father chuckled.

Her mother rose, joining in the joy with a shower of hugs and kisses.

"Superfluous expressions of gratitude for basic developmental milestones, typical parental indulgence," Estelle mused. "One risks fostering an unhealthy sense of entitlement or, at the very least, nurture latent sociopathic tendencies in the child."

Sabine’s parents held onto her tightly.

“Since I’m forced to endure the situation for the interim, might as well enjoy it,” Estelle thought.

She relaxed her resistance, allowing the warmth to cover her like a fuzzy blanket.

***

Sabine sat on an operating room table, her legs kicking back and forth as she played with the overhead light, moving it around on the swivel. She positioned it at the center of the table and switched it on.

“Like this daddy?” Sabine asked. “I mean Dr. Queen. Can…can I see grandpa’s scalpel?”

“Have you been studying your anatomy?” he asked her without looking up from the tray of tools he was spacing out.

“Ummm, yeah,” Sabine said, her voice wavered.

“Liar,” replied Estelle.

“Okay, let’s see,” he said sitting next to her. “Name the two valves of the heart.”

“That’s a trick question daddy…errr Dr. Queen,” she said happily. “The heart has four.”

“Fine, miss smarty pants,” he asked her.

“That’s the umm bicuspid, tricuspid, umm Aortic and them uhh pulmonary?” Sabine said stuttering.

"If you allocated fewer mental resources to romantic daydreams and redirected more effort towards your academic pursuits, your reply might resemble coherent speech rather than sound like the sputtering cacophony of a malfunctioning motorcycle," Estelle irritably thought.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Are you certain about that?" he asked, his gaze fixed on her. "A doctor must maintain 100-percent dedication, 100-percent of the time, or our patients suffer."

Sabine and Estelle leaned in, wrapping him in a lengthy hug. After the embrace, he reached into his lab coat and produced a metal case. Inside, a scalpel with a cobalt blue handle with a crystal-like blade.

Sabine delicately took the scalpel, running her finger along the side.

“Careful with the sapphire blade, Bine,” he cautioned.

“I know, Daddy. It’s self-sharpening,” she remarked, turning it over under the operating room light. “Daddy? When am I going to get my own?”

"Do we absolutely need to go through this again?" Estelle thought. "When you pass your medical licensing exam."

"When you are ready, my little Queen Bee," he responded.

She replaced the blade back and smiled at him. She sighed deeply kicking her legs back and forth on the table. Dr. Queen reached in his pocket and pulled out a silver coin.

Sabine looked at her father, intrigued by the shiny coin he moved back and forth in his hand.

"Daddy, you finally gonna’ show me how to do that trick where the coin disappears?" she asked.

He smiled, setting the stage for a lesson.

"Ah, the art of sleight of hand. It's not just a magician's skill, you know. As a doctor, precision and dexterity are crucial. Let me show you something." Her father held the coin between his fingers, allowing Sabine to see it clearly. "Watch closely."

With a swift motion, he made the coin vanish from his hand. Sabine's eyes widened in amazement.

"Magic, right?" he chuckled. "Well, not exactly. It's a skill called palming or the art of misdirection, and it involves concealing an object in your hand while making it appear empty."

Sabine repeated the word ‘misdirection’.

He went on to explain the importance of sleight of hand for a doctor, especially during delicate procedures or when calming a nervous patient.

"It's not about deceiving, but rather about skillfully managing perception," he clarified, then guided Sabine through the basics of palming.

"The key is to move naturally, using your fingers and hand coordination to create an illusion. It's a valuable skill for gaining trust and making patients feel more comfortable."

Sabine practiced the palming technique with her father's guidance. As the coin disappeared and reappeared in her hand, she began to appreciate the subtlety and precision required.

"The lesson here, my little Queen Bee," he said, "is that sometimes, in medicine and life, it's not just about what you do but also how you do it. Mastering the art of perception can make you not just a skilled doctor, but a compassionate and reassuring one as well."

Sabine nodded, as she practiced the trick again and again.

***

Sabine rushed into her room, tears streaming down her face as she threw herself onto the bed and buried her face in the pillow.

“Why?” she cried. “I loved him.”

Estelle's mind was a tumult of emotions, replaying the recent breakup over and over. The boy she had been with for a year had ended things.

“It’s... it’s all that Lily’s fault, that girl and her friends,” Estelle thought. “Wait, did I just really think that?”

Anger began to rise within Sabine, and she yearned to find Lily and release her frustration. Sabine clenched her fists, punching the pillow in frustration.

Observing the sudden burst of violence, Estelle concentrated on her own anger. She compressed and focused it before releasing it, allowing it to overflow. Sabine continued to punch the pillow and even threw a stuffed animal across the room.

“Maybe I can do something here, as long as I don’t absorb too much of that raw anger,” Estelle thought, focusing on the anger and manipulating it in her mind before letting it loose into Sabine’s thoughts.

“I could just kill Lily,” Sabine said, spitting and foaming at the mouth.

“A bit extreme, maybe I should ease things back a bit,” Estelle thought.

The bedroom door opened, and Sabine's mom walked in, sitting down on the bed and gently rubbing her back.

“Eric broke up with me,” Sabine cried. “I’ll never find another guy like him again.”

“Shh, don’t say a word,” her mom said. “Boys will come and go. You have your whole life ahead of you.”

“As a kidnapper and serial killer,” Estelle added.

“But not like him,” Sabine said, sobbing into her pillow. “It’s that Lily’s fault; she is prettier than I am.”

Sabine moved and placed her head on her mom’s lap.

“Maybe if she was held back a class or two, she wouldn’t have to compete with girls three years older and more developed,” Estelle thought.

“One day you will find your prince, Bee, and he will love you as much as you love him,” her mother said, hugging her tightly.

***

The florescent lights buzzed above as Sabine studied the question on her test. She had taken a mental inventory of the questions she got right, felt were so-so, and ones where she guessed. The conclusion she had come to – failure.

Now was the most difficult part of the test, fill in the blank.

‘Antibody that reacts against all reagent cells in an antibody panel, rather than against one or more specific cells is a _______?’

“I can’t let my family down,” Sabine thought. “Not after all my hard work.”

She reached into her pocket and felt the metal case to the scalpel. Fishing it out, Sabine placed it on the table and opened it up. The test proctor walked over and stared at her.

“It belonged to my grandfather, father and now it’s mine,” Sabine whispered.

The proctor nodded and wandered off.

Closing her eyes she thought, “Please grandpa, guide me.”

The question on her test repeated over and over in her head.

“Panagglutinin!” Estelle shouted in frustration. “I sure do miss the days you were boy crazy.”

The questions disappeared and anxiety evaporated. Sabine wrote down the word. Then an idea occurred to Estelle.

“"If my recollection of psychometry is accurate, and considering I find myself ensnared within her consciousness, achieving a synchronization rate of 100 percent with her becomes imperative for extricating myself from this annoyance,” Estelle thought.

Estelle concentrated on her emotions, lowering her resistance, and permitting herself to feel everything that Sabine was experiencing. Nervousness, apprehension, and excitement washed from Sabine washed over Estelle.

“I fervently hope this method proves effective. The prospect of reliving adolescence alongside Sabine a second time due to a potential loop in her memories is a scenario I would find considerably displeasing,” Estelle complained.

***