Pool_1

because she looked sideways for candles? Sorry, no candles. And try genuflecting at 70 degree downward pitch. Yeah, right. No. Not a church. There is much we can blink away or endure in tribute to an older time. Thus patriarchal form and immediate purpose were at odds here. You could see at a glance that it was far easier, if you were an invalid, to be the subject of demonstration than to be an observer, as Marcus Macaluso so often nagged the administration. The floor had easy access by gurney or wheel chair but God help anybody on crutches trying to get seated in the nearly vertical gallery. Built in a time when nobody considered that observers might be on wheel or crutches, history had locked out many. But history is prized. You don't just kill memories held dear. Even those physicians who would have been better off with more modern inclusive architecture, accepted the steep impassibility of the wall as a link with a hallowed past. Compassing the amphitheater, age darkened oil paintings of somber physicians in scholarly poses would not dare be disturbed. Few, if any at all supported Macaluso's repeated plea to just gut the place and start over. Nobody liked his references to old fish. Thus the floor was a bit crowded being ringed by various medical staff with physical impairments be they life long or transient post underestimation. As no patients were brought to M&M, composure was a bit more relaxed. Relaxed and competatively combative. Professionals were here with the absolutely undertood purpose of finding fault with each other. Conflict was not avoided but encouraged. So unlike church, that called for, "Johnny, the doors." Electromagnets which held the access open were released and the room sealed in slow motion as spectators took their places. The crowded Morbidity & Mortality conference was called to order by Doctor Milton Blake, as a couple of late-comer wheel chairs sped around the alter,