Deciding To Live

Photo by Vlada Karpovich from Pexels

Deciding to Live



The smell of gasoline was overpowering, soon the car would be filled with smoke, and I did not want to die in a blaze of fire. Fire had scared me since I was little and since I was a doctor who had seen her share of burn victims I knew the level of pain.

My right leg was pinned, no matter how hard I tried I could not move it.

On the passenger seat was my doctors bag, an old fashioned black bag that had been first passed down to my Dad, and to me, three generations of Dr Harte had used this bag.

Now what was in this bag just might save my life. The decision was not an ideal one, it was either attempt to amputate my right leg myself and risk bleeding to death, or die in the agony of a fire.

The paramedics had been dispatched, but the nearest town was nearly an hour away, I had been ran off the road. Someone had been following me, but whoever had ran me off the road, and caused me to wrap my late model Saturn around a tree.

It’s funny the things you can do, when your life is at stake.

Lord I am going to need your help. I know this is the decision that has to be made, but this is beyond anything I have ever had to do.

I took the surgical knife and began doing the unthinkable, but what choice…