The Seastone Chair

Medical or Holistic?

PROMPT 1: Use the following piece of dialogue in your story: “Stuff your morals. We're the good guys.”


“He has a hole in his heart, and it’s making it difficult for him to breathe. The pain is becoming unbearable and those doctors are giving up on him,” he said.

Just the thought brought tears to my eyes. I wasn’t ready. I hadn’t gotten enough time with him. I just couldn’t let it all end this way. “There must be something I can do, something we can do,” I pleaded.

He grasped both of my hands giving them a gentle squeeze before kissing my forehead. I closed my eyes, savoring this one moment, taking as much strength from it as I could. “Let me see what I can do,” he whispered.

I sat waiting, my mind caught in a frenzy of wondering what would happen next, how much time we had to save him, or even if he would come up with a plan. The minutes ticked by like hours as I waited for the inevitable, to hear they were going to do nothing. Again. I couldn’t take it anymore. I’d worked enough with my crystals to believe that I could do things others could not, and I was willing to try, rather than give up.

I pulled the clear crystal Quartz from my pocket and moved to his bed, watching his ragged breathing, thankful they put him in an induced coma. With any luck, he wouldn’t feel any pain. I grasped his hand and held it tight with my right hand, and rubbed the crystal in my left, before closing my eyes.

“Create a direct link between me and my boy. I ask our angels to help me help him. Send healing energy in a slow steady stream to his heart, close the hole in his left ventricle. Let the healing energy from the crystal surround the hole, repair it, heal him,” I chanted. After the first few times, it became a mantra, though I continued to whisper, not wanting to be overheard. I felt him them, his discomfort but I couldn’t stop now, I knew it was working.

“What in the hell are you doing?” Doc asked.

Breaking the connection to my son, I dropped his hand and spun around. I couldn’t feel guilty about this. I did the only thing a mother could do when her child’s life was on the line. I jutted out my chin in defiance. “You know exactly what I’m doing, Doc.”

He rushed to my boy, grabbing his stethoscope and listened to his heart beat. “If you ever do that again I’ll have you banned from his room. Do you have any idea what you are risking here?”

My jaw hung open, and then I snapped it shut. “Risk? Do you think letting him sit there dying isn’t a risk? Give me a break.”

"This goes against everything I believe in, against the oath I took, which you are well aware of,” he hissed.

“Stuff your morals. “We’re the good guys. You’re a healer, Doc, just like I am. We may go about it differently, but we were put here to heal others. My son’s life is on the line, you and your band of medical geniuses are giving up on him, afraid to try. Well, I’m not. I’ll use whatever means necessary to save him.”

His icy stare bored right into me and sent a shiver down my spine.

“I may be a good guy, but you took an unnecessary risk! How is that a good thing?” he snapped.

“We’ve been friends for a long time, Doc, and you know I respect you, but for once in your life do you think you could return the favor?” It didn’t matter that we grew up together, that we spoke every day. He could never get on board with the supernatural side of me, even seeing the things I did wasn’t enough to make him open to it. It just went against his medical mind.

He turned away from me, staring at the monitors and then listened to his heartbeat again. He sighed, raked a hand through his dark hair.

“His heartbeat does sound better.”

My eyes widened, not because I had helped my son, I knew I had, but because my best friend admitted it. I wanted to throw my arms around him but squashed the urged and instead moved to my baby and placed a kiss on his forehead.

“Thank you,” I said.

His hands gripped my shoulders and squeezed before he pulled me back into his chest. “Next time, let me know and I’ll monitor him, okay?”

He would never know how much that support meant to me, and I couldn’t tell him, but that day, everything between us changed. Sometimes having a doctor as a best friend had its advantages.

WC: 791

Work Hard ~ Play Hard!