By Mugs Manry
“I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.”
Mark 10:15 (NIV)
I watched my five-year old son squirm as the doctor listened to his heart. He tried to sit still, but today was his Kindergarten physical, and the stethoscope was cold. I distractedly listened to the doctor, but in the back of my mind I was rehearsing the “why we need vaccinations” speech I would soon be giving to my son. “Your son has a heart murmur,” the doctor said. These words finally broke through my thoughts. I had heard these same words many years before concerning my eldest son, now a teenager. At the time, those words had generated panic and fear, but now I received them calmly.
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Lord Jesus Christ,
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pediatric cardiologist,
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Before joining the Army, I was never averse to going to a doctor. I recall having pneumonia at 14 and having to swallow penicillin in big giant horse pills. But when you join the Army you discover the great shame of going on sick call. My favorite sick call scene occurred at Airborne school. In the morning, everyone would be lined up in a giant formation and a Black Hat would stand out front and yell “Sick Call…Fall out to my right, your left…Sick Call…Fall out to my right, your left!…Go to the white house and have some milk and cookies…Sick Call…Fall out to my right, your left!” He would follow that up by: “Quitters…All Quitters…Fall out to my right, your left…Quitters…All Quitters…Fall out to my right, your left!” Even if you were dying, you wouldn’t dare walk out in front of formation and subject your self to the shame of going to the white house. If you were just a little sick, there was no point in going to sick call. The doctor would listen to your complaint, give you some motrin, and send you home. I would usually wait until I was certain bronchitis had set in before I would stumble to the doctor in a daze, because I’d been up 5 nights in a row coughing. Even years after getting out of the Army, I’m still adverse to Sick Call. However, I had hit my 5 nights in a row of coughing limit, so I went to the doctor this morning. She said I was just short of bronchitis, and gave me penicillin which is no longer in horse pill size. She also gave me the cough medicine with codeine in it which is handled now like a controlled substance. I had to sign a paper with my name, address, and phone number and was told repeatedly that I would get no more. I’ve always wondered about the white house with its milk and cookies. Does it really exist or is it just a figment of a Black Hat’s imagination?