Get the word out! The surgeons at Mount Sinai Hospital were horrible. They were rude, condescending, and of course, they were LATE! You could only imagine the lives they were putting at risk. You hadn’t requested anything special. After all, what was the worst they could do? You were used to the side effects at this point, but those were only temporary.


 However, it was pretty much a sure bet that the plan they had wouldn’t work…whatever their plan may be. I needed to do something, but what? Then it occurred to you! The only way you could help everyone out was to stop the surgeons from performing any operations – ever again. You approached the warden and asked her if you could meet the head surgeon, Frederick. 

Upon meeting, you confronted him, but in his words, you were very far ahead of the times. He had no intention of changing anything. People deserved the services he provided, what with their obnoxious lives and irresponsible medical care.


 Deep down, however, you could sense he was a little worried. It was evident from the way he kept peering around the corner of his eyes. You knew he wouldn’t let you inside, so you just turned and walked away. You were about to give up, but suddenly, a thought stuck you! Maybe you should just eliminate the cause of the problem.

Then the unthinkable happened. Though you had been gone for mere seconds, the surgery was already in process! Medicine isn’t exactly the quickest of things to perform. I suppose that was the advantage you had – you were magical.

 You could move at really fast speeds. You could see the mistakes they were making before they could act upon them and with a thought, you were in the operating room! The solemn face of the doctor was your first indication that something was not right. 

He, along with the six other surgeons, had been busy preparing for the surgery. Had you only been a moment early, like the warden wanted? You didn’t know.

"My name is Klaus St. James," you stated, taking a deep breath. "I am one of the physicians at Mount Sinai Hospital."

The doctor reacted with surprise, his glasses sliding down as he stared at you.

"We are in the middle of a major surgery. You need to please leave."

You stared at him. What was the matter with this man? He was a master surgeon and yet he couldn’t even recognize a magic user? But you didn’t have time to question him.

"I do not understand," you replied. "May I assist you?"

The doctor gave a hearty laugh. "Well, you certainly have a high opinion of yourself, I see. I have already told you. We have everything under control, and I am sure you have other duties to attend to. It’s time for you to leave."

It occurred to you that the surgeon’s eyes were focused in the distance. Perhaps he needed glasses, of which he had none. You pressed forward.

"I do not believe this operation will be successful," you told him. "I think-"

"I am not looking for your approval or opinion!" he snapped at you, interrupting. "You are here to observe and learn. Now, leave!"

You felt frustrated as you stood there, unperceived by the surgeon and his team. It just did not make sense! This man should recognize you. In fact, this man should have been yours. 
You knew you’d waited long enough for him. You’d already spent several months down here on Earth, studying humans and their ways. You made sure to be inconspicuous, lest the Solars find you. Now, you were faced with the reality that you may have to do this surgery yourself.

The first thing you did was look at the patient. His name was Albert, and he was just a common man, like so many were. In fact, you had seen so many since your arrival on Earth, many more than you could count. But Albert was special. You’d met him during one of your many observation days. He’d been brought to you by the Solars. The fact that he was kept alive was a testament to the original, original treatment; and even so, you’d become quite fond of him. He didn’t talk much, and you felt he was quite content with his life.


![](https://thumbs.dreamstime.com/b/alma-deja-muerto-tras-visita-de-m%C3%A9dico-el-maduro-que-apaga-la-m%C3%A1quina-del-soporte-vital-y-se-aleja-entonces-cuerpo-paciente-en-217400246.jpg[Linkp](https://thumbs.dreamstime.com/b/alma-deja-muerto-tras-visita-de-m%C3%A9dico-el-maduro-que-apaga-la-m%C3%A1quina-del-soporte-vital-y-se-aleja-entonces-cuerpo-paciente-en-217400246.jpg))


The doctor began his operation and you were powerless to stop it. Everything was going according to plan, until you noticed the hook on the cable. You knew it was flawed. What would happen once he started moving around? You had to do something! Panic rose within your body, but then you felt your stethoscope slip over your neck. You were wearing your doctor’s uniforms. You were a doctor now. Time sped up, but you didn’t think about that. Instead, you just shot up towards the robot-surgeon and grabbed the cable.

“What are you doing?” the doctor cried out.

You felt the surge of electricity in the cable and a thud of energy that went through your body, but you ignored it. You were not thinking about you; you were thinking of the patient. You were thinking of Albert.

“The robot must be fixed,” you continued. “This is impossible!”

“But you can’t fix him!” the doctor said.

You ignored him and you looked at Albert. He was still alive. You had tried. You knew you’d never get another chance. And so, you did what you knew was best for Albert. You breathed a magic breath into his body. Everything around you slowed down and then the magic seemed to make sense. You would fix what you could. You would put him back together.

Days passed, and the days turned into weeks, and so on and so forth. You fixed the robot, but you never told anyone about that. The robot was flawed, but that was okay with you. As for Albert, he was taken back to Mount Sinai by the Solars and placed in the brain surgery ward. This, however, was not what you had in mind for him. 

It was not long before you regretted your decision because Bernice, the other doctor from Albert’s ward, diagnosed him with brain cancer. Not only that, but there was no hope of success in the medical field. There was nothing they could do.