"Trust Me, I'm a Doctor"

Without any further comment or question, the moment my head had turned away to look in the direction the doctor had indicated (admittedly I was a little confused by what he may have been referring to on the other side of the room, that could possibly have made my arm hurt), he made his move. Rapidly dropping my arm (which he had just said would need to be broken again and realigned) onto his raised knee and …. breaking the arm again. It was quick, it was loud and it worked. The arm snapped exactly where he had wanted it to. At least that was what he said, immediately after he felt along it. I must have gone a little white, with the sudden pain that slammed through my senses, and the nurse as well (gone white that is. I know she didn’t feel it.) But just to confirm it, he turned to the nurse and said. “Can we get this x-rayed again, before we put another cast on.” The nurse was still staring at the doctor (although let’s be honest what sort of a doctor was this? Where did he get his degree? A cornflakes packet?). Apparently the nurse was also somewhat shocked by what he had just done.
The doctor seemed somewhat oblivious, “Nurse, x-rays, on this, now” He snapped his fingers at the nurse. She nodded, turned and walked away. Leaving me sitting on the bed, slightly stunned. The doctor looked back at me confidently. “See, no need to wait for any anaesthetic. It’s all done. Over and done with.” Yes, my brain was saying. All done. Done in, it thought as the pain continued. He seemed very pleased with what he had just achieved. I wasn’t quite so pleased. I was sitting on the bed, holding my re-broken arm. I was not only coping with the sharp pain of the re-break, but I was also coping with the difficulty of the position I was in. I was only twelve. This was … a  30 plus (?) adult (Let’s face it, as a child anyone over twenty-five was not just an adult, but old), I was a ‘child’ who was young, inexperienced and unfortunately, since this was just meant to be a check-up on my broken arm, I was also alone. This was a doctor. An adult who was older (over 25), hopefully experienced doctor (although from that first distracted mis-identification of my broken arm, in choosing the right, not the left which had the cast on), and he was apparently surrounded by like minded professionals. At least, that was what I believed. He had on a white coat (Yes, they did actually wear the white lab coats back then, if they were a doctor), and, a stethoscope slung over the back of his neck (a real one). That very, real looking, expensive, defining piece of medical equipment that said loudly and clearly, simply by it’s casual lounging around the neck, “Look, I am a doctor. I have a shiny expensive stethoscope”. 
(Continued tomorrow)