I Reckon, It Was My Reckoning

PLEASE NOTE: BnB has 190 posts. I doubt you're going to rummage around in the basement of my blog, so I've decided to bring a handful of posts forward and mention why these are some of my favorites. Like: My Penned Invention of the Pen Invention (because I had fun writing it); or, The Start starring Wile … Continue reading I Reckon, It Was My Reckoning

Kindness Serves the Souls of Strangers

"Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle."   - Plato "Kindness is the language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see."   - Mark Twain "Offer kindness without reward knowing that someone will return that which you offered another."   - Henry Van Dyke "You cannot do a kindness too soon, for … Continue reading Kindness Serves the Souls of Strangers

A Comment Worth Mentioning

Dr. Culpepper writes in response to my recent post, "Thank You, Doctor." Dear Mr. Mulligan: Medicine is a calling and I suspect that you would have served beautifully in this profession. A real physician does not have a job as a doctor, he or she becomes a doctor. In the process of medical training, one … Continue reading A Comment Worth Mentioning

Thank You, Doctor . . .

There was a time, oh, not so long ago that friends Michelle and Peter and Nick would remember that I sat in a chair in a public forum and wept because I never became a doctor.  Friends recommended nursing, but on my first day my instructor, wearing one of those origamitized hats mentioned the adjective caring … Continue reading Thank You, Doctor . . .

When I Was A Boy, A Doctor’s Insight Was Law

  When I was a child and was literally dragged to Dr. What's-His-Face for an annual check-up (less a check-up and more a ritualistic cadence of tsk, tsk, tsk's) as he poked and kneaded and cold-handedly fiddled with my . . . which backs away from coldness . . . and shy's away from evaluation like … Continue reading When I Was A Boy, A Doctor’s Insight Was Law

The Short Reach of 9-1-1

What does fifteen minutes mean to you?   To me, it's a short walk with Jenni or the edgy, flinching time I endure, while sharp picks and mirrors and a fistful of rubberized fingers examine my mouth. To a heart attack it's pay dirt; to a stroke it's a killing; to an overdose it's long … Continue reading The Short Reach of 9-1-1