“I’m Not God,” They Said

When the physician almost shouted
through the phone, in answer to
the man’s question, “How much will

my knee heal?”: “I can pretty well
guarantee about 60 %. I’m not God,”
it was the “I’m not God” part that

brought back a distant memory of a
veterinarian who tended a severely
dehydrated Siamese cat the man was

watching for a friend when the man
asked, “Will it live?” and the
veterinarian shouted back at him,

“I don’t know; I’m not God!” The
cat lived and only three months
after the revolutionary stem cell

treatment the man’s knee feels at
least 60% better and, better yet,
the man gets to keep his knee when

two orthopedic surgeons in two dif-
ferent states had said to the man
in solemn, oracular tones, “I’ll

give you shots and pills and when
you can’t stand the pain anymore,
I’ll come to your rescue and take

out your knee,” like this was the
final, fatal, predestined verdict
coming straight from the mouth of

God. No, the man’s physician and
the cat’s veterinarian aren’t God,
but they did a good job of assisting.


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