I remember the Doctor’s little black bag and the visits Doctor Clements would make to the home.  Doctors had the ability to heal in those days.  Doctor Furman walked in Doctor Clements footsteps and became the leader of the Profession at Bryn Mawr Hospital.  To be able to prescribe is to be a saint.

Walk through the gardens of Longwood and Wintethur.  These plants and flowers are the making of the finest drugs.  Saint Rose of Lima and Saint Martine DePoures grew gardens like these in the twelve hundreds and were the practice of medicine in South America.  They are Portuguese Saints and represent the uncompromising intellect of the Spanish speaking countries.

The magic of Pharmacy has been laid waiste.  Merlin has suffered the fate of Harry Potter.  Evil has corrupted the Pharmacy with Placebos and down right harmful drugs.  Money and addiction have wrecked the practice of medicine.  The Pharmacy itself had traded in hard drugs and lethal ones.  The war has ripped the healing of the young, the old, and the desperate apart.

With a mighty effort we went back to France, the land of Dupont of Longwood Gardens, and the miraculous waters of Lourdes and righted the science of pharmacy.  Doctors like John Ritchie that pursued the understanding of medicine they practiced have been vindicated.  Doctor John Ritchie has established the Israeli purple family of medicine with the determination of a Doctor that sacrifices his time and energy for his patients.

David Blane, the saint of the impossible, now heads the making of medications.  His incredible intellect and infatigable dedication to his work promise us a new era in medicine.  It is not magice that the devoted Doctor works, but miracles made up of sweat, prayer, and dedication.  The war has been won for sure.