Lessons About Healthcare

Lenora cringed. "RATS!"

"Is there a problem?" Daniel asked kindly, helping her to her feet.

"You saw what happened!" she retorted. "I tripped!"

Simon frowned. "I understand that you're in pain, but you really shouldn't use four-letter words."

"You mean 'rats'? But I learned the word from you."

My brother blushed. "Please don't tell Mother!"

"I won't if you won't."

"Fair enough."

Daniel changed the subject. "Are you hurt, Lenora?"

She sighed. "I'll be fine as long as David doesn't find out! Irritating, parasitic…!"

"You ought not speak that way about your own brother." Daniel smiled. "You know David's just trying to be helpful."

"I need neither his help nor your morality!" Lenora snapped.

My three siblings walked inside.

"Are you alright?" I asked Lenora. "Did you twist an ankle or skin a knee? Do you need me to get anything for you?"

She glared at me. "David, shut your mouth! I'm not in the mood to deal with your Hippocratic nonsense right now!"

"Aren't you being a bit harsh?" Daniel crossed his arms. "You know he means well."

"I don't care! When he grows up, other mice will pay him large sums of money to torture them, but until then, the best way he can help is by staying out of everyone's way!"

Simon motioned for me to come closer. "You're right, David. She could use some help. Why don't you make her some special tea that will ease the pain?"

"How do I do that?" I asked.

"Well, you take all the weeds from the garden, and you throw them in cold water. After you've let them soak for a few minutes, you take the weeds out and mix soil into the water until it's really thick. Then you pour a generous amount into the tea."

"I don't understand the medical science behind that," I confessed. "How exactly does it work?"

"I'm not sure, David, but Hippocrates did it all the time! His patients would beg for his special tea to help them feel better!"

"Well, alright. If you're sure it will work…"

"Absolutely!"

I accidentally ruined Mother's finest roses and pulled up some tulips by accident when I was trying to get the weeds, which I soaked in a puddle I found near the street. After a while, I removed the weeds and mixed in the soil. When I thought the mud was thick enough, I carried some inside and dropped it into a teacup. Finding the teapot ready, I brought my sister some chamomile.

When she took the first sip, I thought she was going to explode.

"David! Why did you put mud in my tea?!" she demanded.

"Simon said it would help you feel better," I explained.

Without another word, Lenora began beating Simon with a broom.

"Mercy!" he pleaded. "I didn't think David would be stupid enough to do it! Could you stop hitting me?!"

"He tried to poison me, and it's your fault, you idiot!" Lenora shrieked.

She paused the broom midair when Mother entered the front door with Meta and Corine, our younger siblings, who had accompanied her on an errand.

Mother stood akimbo. "Explain yourselves at once!"

She didn't care for any of our explanations. Simon got a rant about deceiving his younger brother, and Mother had a harangue for Lenora about proper manners and how fighting was wrong. My lecture was about how I knew better than to dig up the garden, and I was far too young to be concerned with anyone's health.

We all apologized and promised not to do our respective misdeeds again. However, I sincerely doubted that Simon was sorry. For the rest of the day, he often chuckled under his breath, no doubt recalling Lenora's face when she drank the mud.

"Cheer up!" Daniel told me. "Mother says I can take you to the library after lunch. You'll like that, won't you?"

I nodded. I loved the library. It was a great place to find information about the latest discovery in medical science. However, I also enjoyed fictitious works, such as novels about thrilling adventures. On this visit, I found a section of the library I hadn't noticed before.

"What are these books?" I queried.

"Biographies," my brother replied. "These are true stories about the lives of famous rodents." After a pause, he added, "Do you think you would like to try writing someone's biography someday?"

"It sounds like a lot of work," I responded.

"I'm sure you could handle it, David."

"Why are you so kind to me, Daniel? Our other siblings hate me."

"They don't hate you," he clarified. "You just annoy them with the constant medical advice. As for why I try not to be unkind to you, it may happen that in the future, I am your patient, and if that ever comes to pass, I want to be in the hands of a doctor who holds no grudge against me."

I laughed at his joke.

"How are you going to do it, David?" he queried. "I know you want to help others, but I just don't know if you'll be able to handle the job."

"What do you mean?"

"How will you be able to stand hearing screams of torment as you watch others writhe in agony, knowing you may have to cause them more pain before they start feeling better? How will you keep your composure when someone begs you to help their sick infant? What will you do when you lose a patient?" He sighed. "I've got a lot of respect for physicians, but I don't know how they deal with the problems of their jobs."

I made no reply.

"It must be hard when a patient refuses help," he continued. "According to the law, someone may be dying, but if the victim is in his or her right state of mind and turns down medical help, there's nothing a doctor can do about it. Imagine a mouse bleeding to death before your eyes, and you know you could save his life, but he keeps refusing to let you within ten feet of him."

"It would be awful," I responded.

"I'm not trying to discourage your dreams, and I'm sure if you decide you still want to be a physician, you'll be a fine one. I'm just warning you that there's more to the job than telling patients to get plenty of rest and drink orange juice."

Daniel was the only one of my siblings who seemed to support my career goals. Simon and Lenora made countless jokes at my expense.

"I've been studying medical terminology," Lenora announced one day.

"Really?" Simon paused his whittling.

"Yes! Tell me something you might hear at a hospital, and I'll tell you what it means in layman's terms."

Simon thought a moment. "'The doctor will be with you shortly.'"

"'I hope you haven't made any plans for the next seven hours,'" Lenora replied.

My brother chuckled. "'It will all be over in a minute.'"

"'You'll be sore for the next three years.'"

"'This might sting a little.'"

"'This will give you nightmares for the rest of your life.'"

"'Everything's going to be alright.'"

"'Five shillings says you're dead within the next two minutes.'"

"'You're recovering nicely.'"

"'Let's discuss your medical bill.'"

"'This won't hurt a bit.'"

"'By the time you finish screaming, you'll be too hoarse to speak for the next month.'"

Simon laughed again and resumed whittling.