Read Online Bryson City Tales by MD Walt Larimore - Free Book Online

all utility bills and phone bills. In addition, you are both welcome to dine at the hospital at any time at no cost.”
    I looked at Barb again. She seemed a bit more interested.
    â€œWe will also pay for all of the costs incurred by you both when Dr. Larimore has to travel in order to obtain his continuing medical education. We would just ask that you preapprove these expenses with me prior to traveling.
    â€œWe will also provide for all your insurance needs—malpractice, car, home, medical, dental, life, and disability—which should save you considerable funds.”
    This was starting to sound better.
    â€œIn addition, we want to build a brand-new office building. Our current physician office facilities are not what we would like. So the board has had conversations with the North Carolina Office of Rural Health and with the Duke Endowment. We would like you to help us design a family medicine center, to be located within walking distance of the hospital. We’d like to begin recruiting other family doctors who could join you in this building as our older physicians begin to retire. This building will not cost you any money, but just the effort to help us design a wonderful facility for our clients—your patients.”
    This was starting to sound much better.
    â€œLast, but not least, we want you to help us design our new in-hospital birthing center. We’d like to take the old delivery rooms and make them into two comfortable and attractive birthing suites that will be the envy of any hospital in the state.”
    He sat back and took a deep breath. “Walt and Barb, I don’t expect you to decide overnight. Please take this information, think about it, and let me know your decision when you’re ready.” We agreed.
    As we left the hospital, offer in hand, my mind was swirling. There is so much that seems attractive, almost charming, about this town and its medical community. Yet neither Barb nor Ihave ever lived in such a small hamlet—so far from family and, Barb reminds me, a mall! We’ll need time to talk, to debrief, and to pray.
    â€œWalt,” pleaded Barb, “let’s find a place to walk and talk.” We decided to drive up the Deep Creek Valley. At the northern end of the valley was the border of the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. We parked and strolled up the wide walking path beside the creek—it was smooth enough to roll Kate in her stroller. During the summer the creek would be filled with the shrieks of kids tubing over the white-water rapids—but today it was peacefully quiet. Within a short time we were alone—just the rustling of the wide rushing creek, the singing of the birds in the thick overhead canopy, and the joyous sounds of Kate singing and humming.
    Thick mountain laurel and rhododendron bushes hugged the path. We passed two waterfalls and sat, overlooking each, simply to discuss our impressions and concerns. Maybe it was the sheer beauty of the place—or the warmth of her people—or the hospital’s overwhelming need for updated medical skills and technology. Maybe it was our need to feel needed—to make a difference. Whatever the reason, our hearts were in agreement. Barb leaned over to me as we sat by Indian Creek Falls and pronounced, “Walt, I think this is the place!” I smiled in agreement.
    We left the park and drove west from town out to the Nantahala River, where we watched fly fishermen and kayakers at play. We soaked in the quiet, marveled at the lushness of the hills, and breathed in the clean mountain air. We spent the afternoon driving around the small town—and up the valleys and dales surrounding her—and into some of her larger hollows. It was a warm afternoon and the sky was a crystal blue. Our peace and confidence only grew. Eventually, as dusk began to descend, we drove back to town for our scheduled dinner with the partners of Swain Surgical Associates.

    We parked