A Cool Chill Of Remembrance: Doctor Frank Mosby

A Cool Chill of Remembrance
The night was calm and still. It was two thirty in the morning, on a cold, fall night. A sudden phone call awakened Doctor Frank Mosby’s peaceful sleep. He fumbled in the darkness to get dressed and find his keys. There was a chill in the air, as he quietly closed the front door and turned the key to lock it. He trudged steadily to his car, started the engine, and headed to Walker Hospital. This was the part of being a trauma surgeon that required enormous dedication and a twenty-four seven commitment. Doctor Mosby’s car loomed on auto pilot heading down the all too familiar road. He had taken this route many times before, at all hours of the night. Traveling in the still of the night was something he was used

He could not see a bright side to his life and was extremely pessimistic. He carried an angry energy with him and became a negative human being. Nothing could rid him of his attitude or his crippled hand. Bitterness and resentment filled his soul, as he blamed the world for his misfortune. From then on, Doctor Frank Mosby floundered through life, without a purpose. Sadly, he turned to alcohol to drown his inward pain and feelings of failure. His world fell apart, as he isolated himself from his family, friends, and previous colleagues. He packed up and moved away from everything he had ever known or cared for, and placed himself in his own world of a lonely, cruel, solitary confinement. The doctor was now just a shadow living in the dark, wasting life's potential. Then one day, Doctor John Andrews, a colleague and fellow surgeon, showed up on Doctor Mosby’s doorstep. He was aware of Doctor Mosby’s situation, and was concerned for his well-being. Doctor Andrews had always been impressed with the surgical talents of Doctor Mosby and wanted to talk to him about a pending opportunity. During their conversation, Doctor Andrews reminded Doctor Mosby that it was only his hand that was crushed in that accident and not his spirit. He assured him that being angry with the world and destroying himself with alcohol would be the slow death of him. After Doctor Andrews encouraged Doctor Mosby to consider rehabilitation,

His surgically talented hand had been crushed, but his spirit did not have to be. He had allowed life’s obstacle to harden and destroy him. He now realized that he still had his mind and his medical knowledge to share with others. With a new mindset, and a renewed profound interest, Doctor Frank Mosby found hope. Doctor Mosby worked diligently on getting well, and returned to the hometown that he had turned his back on, previously. Surprisingly, he found that old friends and family welcomed him with open arms and without judgements. They were compassionate about the devastation and struggles he had endured. The doctor’s life had dramatically changed. As he became more involved in the community, the threads of his life wove together. Doctor Mosby regretted the fact that he had let his trauma affect him in such a negative, engrossing way. Doctor Mosby took his fellow surgeon’s advice and began teaching at the new medical college in his hometown. Ironically, one of the first lessons he taught to the new medical students was one of commitment. He began by saying, “This is a twenty-four seven commitment. You must be prepared to be called in at all hours of the day and night. Many times, you will find yourself driving to the hospital in the dark and still of the night.” A cool chill of remembrance ran through Doctor Frank Mosby’s veins, and he smiled, an eerie