“Oh GOd, yOur sea is sO larGe and my ship is sO small”

hopped out of the jeep and ran inside to get a wheelchair forme. On the way to the check-in station he explained oursituation to the nurse. They got a doctor right away and rushedme to the x-ray room. Holding up the X-rays, the doctor studiedthem saying, “No fractured bones. You tore up your ankle verybadly. You’ll have to stay off that foot for awhile. We’ll get yousome treatment for the ankle. I’ll have them get you a room.”As I was wheeled down to the lobby, my mind was reeling: Ican’t stay in the hospital - I’ve got to get back to the ship. Iwonder where Doc is. I don’t want to be left behind. What can Ido? I was deeply concerned about what would happen to me.From behind I heard a voice. I turned. It was Doc. “How did youmake out?” Happy to see him, I said “I’m okay!” Before I couldthink, I said “Let’s get out of here!” Doc had a box in his hands.“I’ll take this out to the jeep and come back for you.”Give me the box and let’s get going.” I got the box and out wewent.As we left in the jeep, Doc asked, “What did the doctor say?”“He said no fractures. I’m to stay off my foot for several days.”“OK, I have crutches on board. We’ll put some hot packs on theankle.” “Yea! The doctor said that’s what I should have.”When I arrived at the ship some of the guys saw us and cameout to meet us. “How you doing, Boats? Is it broken?” Theyhelped me aboard the ship.The exec came over to me. “Heard about your accident. Glad tosee your return.”“Me too.”“You take it easy. I’ll be talking to you later.”Our Chief Cook/Steward for the Officers, James Zachery—Zak—brought me some bean soup he had made for the noon chow.“Here Boats, this will make you feel better.”“Yeah! I’ll be farting my way to Bermuda.” He chuckled. Hisround face, big white smile, big eyes, just lit up his brown face.October 2011 | ELSIE ITEM | 7