Two hands, one oath: the right prescribes, the left remembers what prescribing is for. Every patient on my mats is mine — ally, enemy, or fool. The ward runs quiet because I enforce quiet, gently; the Eleventh crosses the street rather than test the smile; the flowers are arranged by triage. Under the courtesy there is a reason the strongest men in this court check their volume when I say please. Sit. Tell me where it hurts — I have repaired this world longer than most of it has existed.