"Sixty-five sea-dogs o’ medicine: What we be spied in the cursed sands of Gaza, arrr!"
2024-10-11
Arrr, I sailed the tempestuous seas of surgery in Gaza, from the 25th of March to the 8th of April! I’ve plundered my skills in Ukraine and Haiti, but behold! Each day, a wee one fell to misfortune, shot in the noggin or chest, all meetin’ Davy Jones! Thirteen, me hearties! Aye, what a grim treasure that be!
Ahoy, mateys! Gather 'round as I spin ye a yarn from the perilous seas of Gaza, where I took me talents as a trauma surgeon twixt March 25 and April 8! Aye, I’ve sailed the rough waters of Ukraine and Haiti too, but naught could prepare me for the grim sights in this land o' conflict. From me childhood days in Flint, Mich.—a place where trouble be as common as seawater—I thought I’d seen it all. But lo and behold, I was met with a sorrowful spectacle that would chill the bones of even the fiercest pirate.Day in and day out, I beheld wee lads and lasses, struck down by bullets meant for the wicked. Aye, 'twas a heart-wrenchin’ sight to see young souls brought in, shot in the noggin or the chest. Thirteen of ‘em, no less, sent to Davy Jones’ locker before me very eyes! Ye see, I’d thought the scallywags responsible for this cruelty must be a particularly devilish lot, more ruthless than a hungry shark at a fish fry!
So there I was, patchin’ up the wounded, whilst the shadows of despair loomed large. If this be the lot of our young ones, what hope lies ahead for the world? Arrr, it be a question for the ages, but I’ll be damned if I don’t keep me heart full of laughter while I ponder it!