Disclaimer: (to the tune of Gee Ma I Wanna go Home)
Gee Ma, I wanna own it
But they won't let me have it
Gee Ma, I wanna own MASH!! But I don't so please don't sue, OK? OK.
Chapter Two
It was nighttime in Korea. It was unusually quiet: there was no gunfire, or mortar explosions, or, most importantly, choppers.
But no wounded didn't mean people's minds weren't on medicine.
Hawkeye sat alone in the Mess Tent, staring vacantly ahead. His thoughts were focused on Private Wilkins, so he didn't hear Margaret come into the Mess Tent for some coffee.
When she saw him, she walked over and sat down across from him.
"What's wrong, Pierce?" she queried.
When he didn't respond, she prodded, "What's wrong?"
He turned to face her. His eyes were tired and weary.
"I just had to tell a kid that he has leukemia."
Margaret gasped. "Leukemia? Are you sure?"
"I stared into the microscope for ten minutes today. I'm positive."
"Oh, that's terrible. What are you going to do?"
Hawkeye laughed bitterly. "What is there I can do, other than send him to Soul, and even they can't do anything."
Margaret said, "But they can help him, maybe send him into remission. Something."
"That's what I told him, but who am I kidding? There's no cure to leukemia."
"Then there's nothing you can do, if there's no cure." Margaret said simply.
"I'm a doctor. It goes against everything I stand for, to say, 'Take nothing and call me in the morning.' I'm supposed to heal people, not just stand around and watch them die. But I just had to tell a kid that he's going to die, and there's nothing I can do to help him."
Margaret looked Hawkeye straight in the eye.
"All you can do is follow your instincts, Hawkeye."
He got up, and said, "My instincts are to heal him."
Then he walked out, leaving Margaret staring after him.
Gee Ma, I wanna own it
But they won't let me have it
Gee Ma, I wanna own MASH!! But I don't so please don't sue, OK? OK.
Chapter Two
It was nighttime in Korea. It was unusually quiet: there was no gunfire, or mortar explosions, or, most importantly, choppers.
But no wounded didn't mean people's minds weren't on medicine.
Hawkeye sat alone in the Mess Tent, staring vacantly ahead. His thoughts were focused on Private Wilkins, so he didn't hear Margaret come into the Mess Tent for some coffee.
When she saw him, she walked over and sat down across from him.
"What's wrong, Pierce?" she queried.
When he didn't respond, she prodded, "What's wrong?"
He turned to face her. His eyes were tired and weary.
"I just had to tell a kid that he has leukemia."
Margaret gasped. "Leukemia? Are you sure?"
"I stared into the microscope for ten minutes today. I'm positive."
"Oh, that's terrible. What are you going to do?"
Hawkeye laughed bitterly. "What is there I can do, other than send him to Soul, and even they can't do anything."
Margaret said, "But they can help him, maybe send him into remission. Something."
"That's what I told him, but who am I kidding? There's no cure to leukemia."
"Then there's nothing you can do, if there's no cure." Margaret said simply.
"I'm a doctor. It goes against everything I stand for, to say, 'Take nothing and call me in the morning.' I'm supposed to heal people, not just stand around and watch them die. But I just had to tell a kid that he's going to die, and there's nothing I can do to help him."
Margaret looked Hawkeye straight in the eye.
"All you can do is follow your instincts, Hawkeye."
He got up, and said, "My instincts are to heal him."
Then he walked out, leaving Margaret staring after him.