All truths are but half-truths

I once knew a Doctor. He has a very good Doctor. His dad had been a Doctor. His Uncles were doctors. Most people he knew said it was obvious: "You were born to be a Doctor."

The man was very unhappy. One day, he quit being a Doctor and started showing people how to hike and paddle canoes and to fend for themselves in the wild. He says that day was the happiest day of this life. Until the next day arrived. Then he discovered that that day was the happiest day of his life. This went on for a while, each next new day being happier than the last. Then, one day, his today felt much the same as his yesterday. Then his yesterday felt somehow better than his today.

This too went on for a while, same as the last, until one day he slipped on some rocks and broke his ankle. So he went to see a doctor. As he walked through the door his eyes and ears and nose came alive, and some distant better yesterdays flooded his mind. While he waited his turn, he spoke to an older man in pain sitting next to him. He answered the man's questions and the man seemed to calm. A woman with her child saw the older man's sudden small comfort. She asked, "Pardon me, are you a Doctor?"

"Not today," he said. "But I will be Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, starting next week."