REFLECTIONS Part 2/?
By Missy
(missy@lexicon.net)

The characters that you recognise from ER are the
property of Michael Crichton, Warner Bros, Constant
Productions and Amblin Television and to the actors who
so marvellously portray them.  Since my editors are very
busy at the moment, this has gone out without them
having seen it and I hope it reads okay.  Be warned, it is
as the title says, reflections and written in the first person. 
I also forgot to mention in Part 1 that it has spoilers for
Season 6 up to episode 8.

PART 2


Through tear-glazed eyes, I took in the darkening
atmopshere around us.   Small glittering stars struggled to
break through the dappled sky, the clouds now resembling
deep purple bruises.   My husband gave my hand a  gentle
squeeze.  What had once been smooth skin was now a
series of blue ridged veins broke the valleys of pale,
paper-thin skin stretching tightly over the long bony
fingers.   I struggled to gain control but my husband's
comfort broke through my resolve.  Tears spilled over the
edge of my brimming eyes and tracked down my cheeks. 
I searched the pockets of my charcoal pants for a
handkerchief.  A tissue was pushed into my other hand
and smiled my thanks as I dabbed away the tears.

At the time of making my decision not to have children,
there had not been the two of us.  I was very lucky that he
was so understanding.  We talked it through and decided
that there was too much risk, not only to our child but to
myself.  Looking back now, I was surprised at how our
family had blossomed.  They may not be of our own flesh
and blood, yet they were cherished just as much.  Not only
my godchildren but the young children we had sponsored
in Africa.  While I had never had a chance to work in
Africa again, we had visited and formed firm bonds with
the children.  The photographs spilled over several pages
as the branches of the family were growing continuously. 
Our first child was now in her early forties and due to
become a grandmother soon.  It was good to see and hear
of the changes that had been brought into their lives
through the small sacrifice on our part.

In between those photographs was one that I had forgotten
I had taken.  Little Reese Benton.  At least he was in those
days.  Now he towered his father easily.  He had
astounded his father as he conquered Peter's fears that he
would struggle in society.  Reese was now toppling the
former Gates empire as he developed software that made
Microsoft look like kindergarten finger painting.  At the
age of ten he had rebuilt his father's computer to suit his
purposes.  I still remember the day that Peter came into
the ER fuming that he had lost all his schedules, reports
and journal articles since his computer was in more pieces
than he could count, or wanted to count for that matter.  It
was actually the journal article due for submission the
next day that had him almost suffering an aneurysm.   I
put my foot in it when I asked about his back up disk. 
Obviously, he had not thought it necessary.  The relieved
and proud father came in the next day, beaming about his
son's remarkable computer skills, clutching the all
important journal article.  

Thinking about Peter and Reese reminded me of another
father who had been changed by the birth of his children. 
 Tess and Kate had a father they could be proud of.  Doug
had always been an excellent paediatrician having a
wonderful manner with patients, he was just not good
with rules.  Someone must have had a twisted sense of
humour when they made him director of paediatric
services.  The job suited him well, providing him with a
consultancy in which to still treat patients while being
able to keep control of the .  While we could never see eye
to eye, it didn't take a genius to recognise how much he
loved Carol and his girls.  Though, he did take his time
getting back and sweeping Carol off her feet.  It was good
that he did it when he did.  I hate to think of the
consequences had Carol still been in the ER the following
week.  

All of us who worked in the ER knew about the tragedy
that had struck other hospitals.   After Mark's attack, I
thought that the cameras and extra security would provide
the staff with safety in the workplace.  How wrong could
I have been.  Valentine's Day in the new millennium was
firmly engraved on my mind.   The day had been slow,
giving me a chance to catch up with some much needed
paperwork.   We all knew that things would pick up that
evening.  Extra hands had been called on for the usual
rush on food poisoning cases, suicide attempts and the
extremes of marital bliss.  The usual assortment of
Chicago struck with Cupid's arrow.   No lights or sirens
had heralded the permanent change to the atmosphere in
which we all worked.