So as I was saying  , I found myself moving at a good clip in a neighborhood down a road made of stone, at night, trying to keep up with a man running in front of me. The moon seemed to be the only source of light, washing everything in variations of navy blue.

He was wearing a short sleeved shirt and dark pants, was slender and perhaps in his twenties or thirties and he was terrified, jerking his head to look back over his left shoulder several times, looking right through me. I suddenly understood why he was running and hollered that I was a doctor. As we both slowed to a walk he then stopped and turned, looking at me hard as I nearly bumped into him. His thoughts were  clear: I was a woman and that wasn't good enough. He needed a real doctor. I responded that I was a real doctor and I was there to help. He began to step away and then hesitated, and I pleaded with him not to leave...that medical help was seconds away. He said he needed a doctor for his family, everyone was terribly ill and dying. He had no idea why all were suffering at the same time, or who or what could have caused it, which only added to his panic. The killer or culprit must be invisible and how could he protect or save his family from the likes of that?

Helpers were quickly surrounding us, dressed as medical personnel, which helped the man calm down immediately. As they engaged him in a reassuring conversation I knew it was my time to leave.

Much love,

Ginny

Hi Ginny,

Your retrieval reminds me of a recent one. The people I tried to retrieve were dressed as medical personnel and utterly convinced they were doctors. Stuck in a doctorial loop. As soon as I entered the scene they finally had someone else to stethoscope, give pills to and test for working knee reflexes. I told them they were dead, and that snapped them out of it, yet all of them insisted they were helpers, which I figured was a code word for being doctors. Alas, no helping them, physician heal yourself, so called it a day.