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syms-things-5 · 4 years

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Clear The Area - Chapter Eleven: Part One

Previous Chapter can be found here

Warning: Language, mentions of blood and medical procedures

Note: Sorry for the delay on this one...

Chapter Eleven: Part One

A devastating pile-up on Main Street brought dozens of patients into the ER that Monday morning. Rain had been falling almost non-stop since Saturday afternoon with reports of flooding in areas surrounding the city centre. Paramedics and the Fire Department were having a rough time getting patients to the hospital and as a result, several commuters with moderately less life-threatening injuries had to be diverted to Thomas-Alderson on the other side of town. Ordinarily, she and Audrey would have been assigned onto ward rounds to maintain the status quo for the existing patients but as the first people arrived, all at some stage of critical, it soon became clear this was to be no ordinary day.

Audrey was due to take annual leave that week but she texted Sarah soon after 10 o’clock to let her know she was now on her way in. Greg had recruited two medics he knew from a private hospital in Lincoln, one town over. One was an award-winning neuro-surgeon; Sarah recognised him from a profile featured in an old edition of the AJM. He was considered something of a maverick round these parts but as the ER filled up with bodies and anxious, despondent families, they would gladly take all the help they could get.

“OK, listen up. We have Trauma One and Trauma Two split between Morris and Stephenson. You three, I’m going to need as back-up, OK?” O’Brien was yelling commands at the team currently gathered just inside the part-covered Ambulance Bay and relishing every minute of it. He excelled in moments of great pressure. “Alex, Mark and Lina, you’re taking the minors. Use the suture lab but make sure they are kept far away from the Trauma centre as possible. They don’t need to see that.”

As Sarah watched the named trio jog off to their posts, her focus was quickly diverts to a waving Audrey as she ran into the building, flustered and wet from a sudden downpour. She caught Sarah’s eye and indicated the locker room to drop off her stuff before joining the group. More staff had gathered by that point, wanting to help in any way they could. The interns looks scared to say the least; Sarah couldn’t remember how long she had interned before coming into contact with something this heavy. This was going to be a harsh learning curve and if she had to bet, at least two of them would rethink their career path before the day was out.

“Sarah, you and Audrey and...Tom will cover the cubicles. Sarah, the man in five has also likely had an A.M.I. and ought to have a sed rate done for assurances. Greg, can you oversee them?” Greg nodded before scanning Audrey and Sarah, a somewhat sympathetic smile on his face. Sarah could tell this was as far from his comfort level as it was anyone else’s and no amount of private education could fully prepare you for being thrown in at the deep end.

The stretchers were lining up thick and fast. One patient, a man in a designer suit, had most of his body covered with a blanket but not enough to hide visible blood and scratches covering his face and neck. An older man lies on a gurney next to him, looking trim and relatively clean except for his left arm wrapped in a checked towel of some kind or possibly someone’s shirt they had used to stem the bleeding. A woman further down has a makeshift eyepatch covering one side of her face, glass cuts peppering her skin, her trendy grey hair now streaked with red. They shock was evident on every single one of them. It was hard to know where to start.

“Call seventh and eighth floors and tell them we need as much space as they can give us.” Audrey yelled across at Beth, a young receptionist stuck in her spot, mouth open, aghast as what she was witnessing. “Beth! Come on now, girl.” There was nothing quite like Audrey’s voice to stir you into action as Beth fumbled for the handset and began furiously dialling numbers.

“I’m thinking we clear the easy cases as fast as we can and shift those guys upstairs to make way for the emergencies.” Greg suggested, surveying the corridor. “O’Brien said another two ambulances are en route as we speak. We’re gonna need the space.”

Audrey nodded in agreement, taking in the war zone surrounding her. “I think between us, we can stitch up and bandage quickly. Get them out and on their way home if possible.”

“Think you can break your speed record for bandaging?” Tom asked, moving through the growing crowd towards where the three of them stood, equally as dumbstruck by the sight before him. Tom was an upstanding member of staff, seventeen years with the hospital but with a youthful face that belied his impending middle age. Sarah had fond memories of him inducting her when she first started and was a fan of his friendly, goofy bedside manner. Kids loved him.

“I haven’t practiced in a while. I was hoping to get fair warning at least.” Sarah responded. A couple of nursing interns shuffled past carrying stacks of boxes filled with medical gloves and bandages. “It’s gonna be a long-ass day, folks.”

Sarah and Ben, a specialist she’d never met before, were tending to the elderly man she’d spied earlier that morning. He’d had a high dosage of a local anaesthetic that took next to no time to kick in and was causing him to drift off very few minutes. Ben didn’t seem worried, it would at least allow them to take a closer look at the deep cuts running from his wrist to his elbow. Within a minute, though, he spotted an artery visible just underneath the muscle closest to the wrist, and glanced at Sarah, worry etched across his face.

“If we touch this, it’s hame over.” he whispered, pointing his finger towards the pronator muscle, glancing back to the elderly man to make sure he was still out. “What are his current vitals?”

“No sensation radial, median or ulnar. Ulnar could be trapped, though. No pulses, temperature and colour as you see, and we’ve kept his arm elevated. He’s had 500ccs of saline by push, too.”

Ben nodded, taking a step back from the trolley to take stock of the man’s predicament. “What about an x-ray?”

“Sarah shook her head. “X-ray is backed up but he’s on the list. Should be less than an hour. Crit count is thirty-two-five.”

“OK. Not great but OK.” He thought for a second. “We need to get him into surgery as soon as we can/ Cancel the x-ray for now.”

Sarah nodded in agreement and called the OR. Ben remained standing in the room alongside her until he knew the plan of action. “OK, they should have a room in twenty minutes. Up on ninth.”

Audrey popped her head around the door and got Sarah’s attention. “All OK in here?” The look on both of their faces soon gave her the answer. “Can I steal you for a minute?”

Ben nodded for Sarah to leave and she followed Audrey out towards a nearby stock cupboard....

“....And move this leg for me, ma’am.” Greg was attempting to coerce an older lady, Matilda, into focusing on his small movements as he gently moved her legs and her arms to confirm that what she was experiencing was temporary paralysis from shock and not a more serious loss of feeling in her extremities. He’d called Sarah in to assist after she’d finished stitching and wrapping up a dozen or so other patients. Could have been more. She’d lost count when she hit double figures.

He gently worked her knee, massaged her calf muscle with two of his fingers, and then her ankle until she appeared to be more aware of what was going on. Sarah wanted to give her a hug. She looked completely lost.

“That’s very good. Now, can you tell me if you have any pain in your neck, shoulders or you upper arms?”

“No,”

“What about when I press here? How does that feel?” He moved his left hand to the back of her neck, pressing two fingers slightly onto her atlas and axis bones at the top of her spine.

“That feels OK.”

“That’s good, thank you.” He seemed satisfied she was OK as he continued to move his fingers down through the spinal bones, pressing on each one as he went to see if she flinshed or made any indication that something was hurting her.

Sarah moved a little more into the light so the woman could focus on her as Greg moved his way down her back. “Were you with someone this morning? Is there someone I can call for you?”

“Oh no, just me today.” The lady responded with a small smile. She flinched a bit when Greg moved back down to her right ankle and they noticed some blueish bruising now forming clearly around the lower tibia bones.

“OK, I think we’ll get the x-ray done on this foot and we’ll go from there. Sound good?” Greg smiled broadly, trying to instil some confidence back into her. To her credit, she smiled back at them both, light tears forming in her eyes.

“Hey, why don’t I come with you? It’s near the canteen, we can grab a snack on the way? I don’t know about you but I’m starving.” offered Sarah. Her eyes met Greg’s briefly and he smiled at her. It might be a good idea to keep her company for a little while given she was on her own.

The hospital had filled up more during the afternoon as people came in off their own accord, displaying various cuts and scrapes from flying glass and debris. Security had also noticeably tightened by the reception area, ready to help disperse the typical rubberneckers and ambulance-chasing lawyers that usually made appearances once that first initial panic had died down. Crowds of people had been congregating in the corridors and the consultancy rooms that once allowed patients to have private conversations with their family members and doctors had now been taken over by interns taking temperatures and recording blood pressure. Anywhere you dared to turn, someone needed you for something and it was beginning to feel a little claustrophobic. For a patient as fragile as Matilda, it would have been a scary place to be left on your own and Sarah had started feeling a little protective over this petite old lady.

“If you take her up, I’ll cover you in triage for a while.” Greg offered, taking his gloves off and throwing them in the nearby waste bin.

“Thanks. I won’t be long.”

The elevators were subject to the expected traffic jams as always but Matilda had managed to calm down somewhat in the few minutes it had taken to manoeuvre her wheelchair passed the throngs of people hanging around. Sarah was thankful for a few moments of peace as they waited for the next elevator to open up. She placed her hands back into her pocket and felt her phone having forgotten she had kept it on her. Pulling it out, eleven hours after she’d begun the day, she was expecting to see some messages but not the barrage that awaited her.

Jocelyn had clearly descended into full-blown panic and managed to convince herself that Sarah had been involved in the accident and was currently lying unclaimed on a gurney somewhere. God knows what Noah was doing to calm her down. He’d also messaged her separately to warn her of the increasing press presence currently gathering around outside and she remembered O’Brien’s earlier order for staff not to engage with any line of questioning off the back of instructions received from the local police department. It was becoming increasingly apparent it was a criminal case.

Shanna had helpfully messaged her at half hour intervals to explain the news footage to her and left a voicemail that sounded like she had butt-dialed her by accident, Lisa’s fretful voice also somewhere in the background. She opened up her group text function and typed a quick message in the hopes the signal in the hospital wasn’t too bad.

Sarah 9.14pm

Guys, I’m fine. We’re getting through it. People have responded well. Hopefully over the worst now. Speak soon xx

Had she become de-sensitised to it all? Maybe. In May the previous year she had taken Shanna to a Q&A by renowned medical Psychologist, Professor Alexander Shang, who had just published a long gestating and controversial report stating that slowly, over time and with enough exposure to bodily trauma, people in the medical profession were setting themselves up to become emotionally stunted. Ah. Because that’s what she needed to be thinking about right now.

Shans 9.17pm

THANK GOD. It looks awful. They’re saying a lorry driver was drunk n drove straight thu all those cars :( xxxxx

In all the stress and drama, she hadn’t stopped to figure out what could have caused this amount of destruction. She nudged Matilda’s wheelchair further up the queue and saw she was within closing distance of the next elevator. She flicked through the rest of her messages to make sure she hadn’t missed anyone. Matilda, bless her, had fallen asleep and a ported in front of her kindly allowed her to take his place in the waiting elevator.

Charlotte 7.44pm

I saw the news. I hope you are OK? Please let me know if you can x

She read the message back several times. Following their failed attempt at meeting up, Shan had encouraged her against replying. She hadn’t felt particularly angry; more so, disappointed. Rejected. Looking down at the message in front of her, she didn’t really feel anything.

The floor opened up in front of them both shaking Sarah from her focus and she carefull wheeled Matilda out towards the reception desk. They avoided waking her up to ask her more of the same questions she’d answered ten times already and Sarah was ushered into a quiet room around the corner and whispered a soft “goodbye” to her before leaving her in peace.

“You were great back there.” Greg said, siding up to her in the locker room. He was wrapping up his scrubs into a plastic bag and shoving them in to the bottom, of his rucksack. It wasn’t the designed one she’d seen the other day. She had also noticed he stopped wearing ties, too. He acted a little more relaxed, like he was trying to fit in.

“Just trying to keep things moving.” She shrugged. “You have a fan in Matilda by the way. She was singing your praises on the ward.”

“Ha, that’s cute. She was sweet, wasn’t she? I hope she gets some rest up there.” He pulled his watch from his trouser pocket and began clipping it back around his wrist. “You should really think about going back to Med School by the way. Can’t understand why you stopped. We could do with more level-headed people out there.”

That took her by surprise. She didn’t know what to say when her parents had asked her the same thing so Greg wouldn’t be in much more luck now. “Just...time. Money. I guess I was ready to just get out of there and work.”

“Yeh, I get it.” He grabbed his jacket from the hanger. “You can tell me to butt out but it’s not that hard, the entry exam. Hell, if I managed it, anyone can.”

Sarah wasn’t keen on progressing this line of conversation at 1 o’clock in the morning, and she couldn’t much make out Greg’s features through her growing tiredness. He still seemed bizarrely chipper.

“I know someone on the board up in New York. i could probably get you on the entry test easily enough, if you fancied giving it a go.” He grabbed his bag. “You’ve got some fans here and you worked through those patients like an expert. It’s something to think about at least.” He smiled at her before backing out of the room almost as quickly as he’d arrived.

Sarah was left pondering his words for a second before Audrey emerged from the shower, towel loosely wrapped around her as she attempted to carry half a CVS shelf in her arms. A second earlier and Greg would have been treated to a wonderful sight.

“What did Greg say? Is he going back to school?”

“No, but he thinks I should. Try getting me M.D. again.”

“Yeh? Think you will? ‘Cos I am all for balancing out the gender pool in this place.”

Sarah laughed, tying her shoelaces. “Honestly, it hadn’t much crossed my mind. I don’t think I could handle the pressure and being in school for another four years.”

Audrey raised an eyebrow. “Honey, I know you well enough to know you like a challenge. Plus there’s ways of working around the studies. You know full well you could handle it.”

“Greg knows someone on the board apparently. Said it would be easy for me to at least try the entry test again.”

“Knows a guy, does he? And what will you do for him in return?” Audrey could never be accused of being backwards in coming forwards.

Sarah rolled her eyes. “Can he not just be a nice guy? Honestly, I think I’m warming to him. You should have seen him with this old lady today.”

Audrey side-eyed her and began rubbing moisturiser on her lower leg currently balanced on the chair in front of her. “He’s got you sussed then. Playing nice with little old people always gets in your good books.”

Sarah chose to ignore the implication and gathered her hoodie. “I love you, Audrey. Get home safe. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Sarah!”

The voice was clear, not quite a shout, and came from seemingly nowhere in the dark. She stood still on the drizzly sidewalk, the hospital gradually disappearing behind her in the heavy rain. She made little effort to stay for long; she was tired and she wanted her bed, so she turned to carry on walking home.

“Sarah, wait up,” came the voice again, a little more recognisable this time. She turned around just in time to see Chris paving towards her, his light grey hoodie spotted with raindrops.

“Chris?” she blinked a few times. “What the hell are you doing here?” It was a fair question; his flight wasn’t due to land until the early morning and she was pretty sure Scott assumed he was collecting him from the airport.

“I left early. God, you walk fast.” He stopped a few feet in front of her feighing breathlessness but she knew better. He could probably run a marathon right about now with energy to spare. Upon closer inspection, he looked shattered and the dark circles under his eyes gave away that he hadn’t slept much.

“How long have you been waiting her?”

“Not long.” He lied. “Shan said you were staying later ‘cos of the accident so I just pulled up around the corner. You OK?”

Lines clearly marked his face with worry and when she finally realised what was going on, she nodded slowly. “Yeh. Yeh, I’m OK. It’s been a long day is all. Can’t complain really. Not compared to...” she motioned back towards the ambulance bay.

He turned back briefly in the direction she was looking. People were still milling around outside, puffing on cigarettes and talking on their phones. “Yeh, I bet. I saw the news, it looks awful. I can’t imagine how tough it’s been.”

Another pause. It didn’t seem right that he was here. “Night shift have taken over now so I’m just gonna try get some rest and come back in the morning.” She half-smiled at him, still not fully taking him in as he stood mere feet in front of her, his hands balled into the front pockets of his jeans.

“Fuck. Shanna said he was drunk at the wheel.”

“I don’t know. I haven’t been paying much attention to the news.”

“No, yeh, of course. Sorry, I was just....I don’t know.” he snickered to himself awkwardly. He should have thought better than accosting her on the street in the middle of the night when she looked like she’d rather be anywhere else than standing there.

“Let me give you a lift home. Get there faster.”

“No, it’s OK. I’d prefer the walk.”

“Come on, Sarah. You’ll catch a cold out here and it’s dark and I don’t want you getting hurt.” He turned to take a step back in the direction of his car, half insisting but half worrying she was going to stubbornly reject his offer. “Please? I’m just down there.”

He was right and Sarah was glad to take the weight off her feet. She walked a little behind him until they reached his Audi and she removed her back from where it had been slung across her body and released a noticeable sigh as she sat down inside the vehicle. He put the seat heaters on and she felt the warmth gradually travel up her back and down her legs.

“You been on your feet all day?” he enquired, looking across to see her lean her head back on the headrest, closing her eyes. The rain was coming down hard and blurring the windscreen but he wasn’t in any hurry to set off the wipers or start the car. He allowed her to sit for a moment, gathering her thoughts in what was probably the first moment of peace she’d had all day. She looked exhausted. “I take it you haven’t have a break?”

She shook her head slowly. “Time goes quickly when you’re busy.”

“i know that feeling.” he smiled at her. “Have you eaten anything?”

She shook her head slowly once more but she wasn’t altogether that hungry. Just tired. Just wanting to take off her shoes and lie down somewhere quiet for a few hours. It really didn’t matter where so long as it was dark. There were people currently inside who wouldn’t get that luxury for some time yet. “I could do with a drink.”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Yeh? What were you thinking? We could easily grab some beer on the way.”

“Or whiskey. Something strong and warm. Might knock me out for a while.” she chuckled to herself not expecting to be taken seriously. He watched her look at the rain falling onto the windscreen in front of them. Exhaustion was radiating from her body and before he knew what he was doing, he reached his hand out to tuck strands of wet hair behind her ear.

“I have some at mine.” He offered. She leaned her head to one side to look at him, moments passing that felt longer than they were. He looked just as tired and would no doubt crash out as soon as he got home. It seemed wrong to disturb him.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” She decided, somewhat unconvincingly. Somebody here should be at least trying to think straight.

“I didn’t say it was a good idea.” he didn’t flinch, didn’t blink. “But you need a drink and I have plenty.”

She felt her resolve waiver the more time passed and the more they continued to look at each other. it could very well be the fatigue that was enveloping her and preventing her from thinking straight but she was finding it harder and harder to pull herself away. The last few messages exchanged between them that week proved the energy had shifted and no matter what they intended, things were not the same anymore. And she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.

#chris evans #chris fic #evans fic #clear the area #sarah bernette #chris evans x original female character

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crestfallencomic-blog · 4 years

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My Journey to Crest Fallen

Glenn-Paul Nehlsen

HUM 125-065

Keith Jensen

December 5, 2019

My Journey to Crest Fallen (Works Cited page for the comic at the end)

My journey began in December of 2018, when my therapist recommended that I take a break from my normal routine and go back to college. I had not thought I could make that work, so I enrolled in the testing program at Oakton Community College, where I was being considered for an apprenticeship program for a new career. When they received my transcript from Harper College, where I had attended school from 1991-1992, the deal fell through due to a dismal GPA caused by two classes I had failed to withdraw from, after I could no longer attend the school (after being a victim of a psychological attack by an administration member). After contacting Harper College in order to fix the problem, it became clear that I would have to retake those two classes before I could continue considering the apprenticeship program. I was also wary of leaving my profession as it afforded me a good salary and freedom, despite my desperate need to break from it.

Shortly thereafter, I discovered that I was about to lose my occupational license due to a tax issue. They told me I either had to make arrangements to pay or pick another career. What I heard was “If you do something else, you’ll never have to pay”. As it turns out, that phone call occurred on the same day I learned I would no longer be considered for the apprenticeship program and on the same day the Admissions Department at Harper College told me that, since I had enrolled in 1991, I had no other prerequisites than to sign up for and pay for my classes, if I could manage only late-start classes for that semester. All the stars had aligned and pointed a path of finishing my degree at Harper (and facing my past from there).

I took a leap of faith and registered twelve credit hours of late-start classes, all of which were heavy in both reading and writing. However, I dove in and tackled each class. It was hard work but also fun, at least enough fun that I continued with Summer term classes. I was excited to learn that I had earned the top score in each of my classes, but it also rekindled my interest in creating writing. I was lucky enough to be engaged by a professor who made learning a fun adventure instead of a dreary responsibility. Your creative writing flexibility in your class assignments allowed me not only to learn new material and advance toward my degree, but also to therapeutically express my repressed emotions caused by my traumas, helping me to heal and grow.

For a brief time, after having met an interesting guy, I thought it nearly impossible to balance school, bills and love all at the same time. Luckily for me, he has been amazingly supportive in my quest to educate myself and helps keep me motivated, when all I really want to do is lay in bed and snuggle, instead of getting my work done. Through this work, and through my expressions, and with the help of some great friends and talented professors, I found myself healing on multiple fronts. I have finally been able to forgive many of my tormentors, and I have even forgiven the college for the monster it had harbored long ago and found a bit of a home at Harper. Such a level of ability for forgiveness not only drives away depression, but also can bring about elicit moments of ecstasy. It was only after this that I knew my calling would keep me in school for some time to come.

Which brings be to the drawing end of my third term back in school, and my next creative assignment. This time, I tried a new medium—one that I’d thought I lacked too many skills to accomplish—a comic book. It would involve the monomyth theory by Joseph Campbell. The idea for comic book’s theme originated from a simple joke between my boyfriend and me. Being from Southern California, he had never seen snow in real life. During a particularly warm post-snow day, he had asked me why there are spotty little patch-piles of snow that hadn’t melted. I quipped back that those were the sinful flakes that could not yet get back into Heaven. Thus, the project began.

The adventure begins with the protagonist, Blue Entity, being summoned to adventure by the herald, Green Entity. The following pages set up the back story of his family and the fact that he has died. It is not until the flashback, however, until we learn that any return to this realm comes with it a cost in some kind of pain. We also learn that this was not the first time Blue had set out on the adventure and returned. In fact, Blue forgets each descent upon his return. Unable to help Blue anymore, Green leaves him alone. At this time, he receives wisdom from above, as the golden rays speak to him, allowing him to remember the many steps he has already taken. The flashback begins.

In it, he sees his initial refusal of the call to adventure, experiencing for the first time the drawing of unconditional grace. Eventually, his desire to see his still-living family wins and he is able to transform into a true form of himself—a snowflake—as he is, his wife tells, truly one of a kind. He dives downward through the cloud cover, his first threshold, but only after figuring out Green’s (now the threshold guardian) riddle that only love can truly transform. He reaches the belly of the whale, which is his old town and his favorite restaurant, frequented in his honor by his loving and ever-grieving family. But the winds of chance and change never allow him to reach his destination, Blue being blocked by nearly endless obstacles. Eventually the winds blow his way and he, as a snowflake, strikes the restaurant window adjacent the table where his family is currently dining, always at the same table, his favorite seat. After he sees them, his thirst for the adventure has been quenched enough that the pain of the journey really starts to set in.

He slides down the glass, landing in a yet-unmelted snow pile. While there a fire, which stung of ice instead of flame, encircles him. A malevolent voice uses his weakened state to tempt him into falling further, begging him to let go and join with him and offering to reunite Blue with his family in both this life and the one that will follow. As much as he desired to be with his family again, Blue knows that accepting the offer would mean losing his own soul, and possibly assisting in the future taking of the souls of his loved ones. Knowing that another return and another attempt would leave him too weakened to resist the malevolent voice again, he resigns himself to a fate shared with the flakes still in the snow pile, sacrificing himself and his quest for the sake of love. Instead, he is appreciative of the golden rays for bringing him to view his family for one last time, this representing an atonement.

He dies a symbolic death only to be resurrected and rewarded for his many leaps of faith. He re-emerges from the pile fresh, strong and new. The winds blow him up as his family exits the restaurant. Blowing off their hats, the winds allow him to land on the cheek of his loving wife, who is now old but had never remarried. He melts on her skin, they unite and she passes away. The final panels reveal, to those who may have missed the smaller details, that many years have gone by since the journey began. They reveal that his child has grown and has produced a grandchild. Finally, they reveal that he and his now-deceased wife have returned to the above realm together. These represent the apotheosis and the ultimate boon.

The passage of time throughout the comic is shown in various ways. The amount of snow on the ground is always changing. The sun is at different times of the day, the setting of it representing the passing of a lifetime. The height of the talk bubbles above the tabletop distinguishes the relative age of the speaker, be it child or adult. The television inside the restaurant changes in technology, each time playing a different movie, each representing a later era. The final one comes from the move, Doctor Strange, as is an homage and a final reveal that Blue has chosen to fall many times for years on end. The re-welcoming back of both Blue and his wife (Red) shows their refusal to return to grace and, in fact, devote themselves on a similar quest to watch their child and grandchild(ren) grow, suggesting that this may be a cycle that never ends, or at least not for several generations before they return to grace and return to the greater cycle. They never go through the five stages of the return. At least not in THIS issue.

My boyfriend just told me how late it is. So, it is time for me to finish this assignment, go back upstairs and rejoin my regularly scheduled life.

This comic book clearly deals with a lot of spiritual imagery, which has once again been uniquely helpful to me. Also, with the assistance of my spiritual advisor, these moments have helped me bridge the gap, at least inside my own heart and soul, between science and faith. I am finally being able to understand the ending of Inherit the Wind, where the main character, holding a book about evolution:

weighs the volume in his hand; this one has been the center of the whirlwind. Then Drummond notices the Bible on the Judge’s bench. He picks up the Bible in his other hand; he looks from one volume to the other, balancing them thoughtfully, as if his hands were scales. He half-smiles, half-shrugs. Then Drummond slaps the two books together and jams them in his briefcase, side by side. (Lawrence)

In learning to understand both science and spirituality I can become a master of both worlds and find my freedom to live. And, with that, I will point out that while my comic book does not go through all stages of Campbell’s monomyth; however, this explanation does. I will leave them up to you to discover them…

WORKS CITED

Amano, Hugh, and Sarah Becan. Lets Make Ramen!: a Comic Book Cookbook. Ten Speed Press, an Imprint of the Crown Publishing Group, a Division of Penguin Random House LLC, 2019.

Campbell, Joseph. The Hero with a Thousand Faces. New World Library, 2008.

Capra, Frank, director. It’s a Wonderful Life. Liberty Films, 1946.

Chechik, Jeremiah S., director. National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation. Warner Bros., 1989.

Derrickson, Scott, director. Doctor Strange. Marvel Studios, 2016.

Lawrence, Jerome, and Robert Edwin Lee. Inherit the Wind. Dramatists Play Service Inc., 2009.

Pak, Greg, and Fred Van Lente. Make Comics like the Pros: the inside Scoop on How to Write, Draw, and Sell Your Comic Books and Graphic Novels. Watson-Guptill, 2014.

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