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.