Clem Donor quickly relayed to us that he had worked with the surgeon for a few years while stationed with the army at Fort Scott. I looked at Doc who nodded and I removed the handcuffs. He then moved down next to Doc.
He went through the procedures, making sure that we knew what we were supposed to do. Molly had placed a large pan of hot water on the stove where I normally kept the coffeepot. Along the back of the chair she had several pieces of cloth.
“Mister Dover, listen to me,” said Doc sharply. “Open your eyes and look at me.”
Dover opened his eyes, the pain was apparent, but there was something added to it–fear. “I’m being straight with you,” divulged Doc. “If your appendix has burst, I give little hope to you living. There’s two other major problems. One is that of bleeding. Once I start I need to move fast. The second, which is always a danger, is that of infection.”
We hadn’t noticed that the Parson had moved up close to us. “Mr. Dover, I don’t know you, but I would suggest with the information that the good doctor has given you that you get your heart right with the Almighty. That will at least give you hope for eternity.”
Dover tried his best to bring up a smile. “You a Sky-Pilot?”
Rev. Chapman moved up closer to the man so he could look him in the eyes. “I am.”
“I never thought I’d be a-dyin’ this way.” He moved his hand up and Parson Chapman took hold of it. “Pray for me,” he moaned, then added. “Please, don’t let go of my hand.”
“I won’t,” replied the Parson and began to pray in a very quiet whisper bending down to Dover. I grabbed a chair for the preacher to sit on.
Doc Jones looked at Donor, “You know what to give me when I ask?” he questioned. Donor simply replied with a nod.
“Miles, I want you down here to hold his legs, just in case. I’m not expecting any reaction from him, but I want to be ready. Molly, you stand by the head and be ready to hand me cloths as I clean the wound after surgery. You might go ahead and remove the water from the stove. I want it hot, but not too hot as to cause a burn.”
There was a bottle on the counter behind the stove that Doc picked up. “Let’s get this done,” he said, then looked down at his patient. “This will put you to sleep. You won’t feel anything during the surgery, I can’t promise you afterward.” He then put a little mesh device over Dover’s nose and mouth and covered it with cloth. “Molly, I’m going to put him to sleep with this ether. If I nod at you I want you to pour a little more on the cloth. Don’t get too close or the fumes might put you out as well.”
Doc began the procedure and as soon as Dover’s breathing evened out and he was asleep, Doc picked up his scalpel. Doc and Clem Donor worked together, and then Doc exclaimed, “Oh my!”
I couldn’t see very well from where I was standing, but Donor looked to where Doc was pointing. Doc pointed with his head, “In my bag.” Donor immediately went to the bag sitting on the next table, and pulled out something that I couldn’t tell what? “Hold it right here, I’m going to tie this off.” Within seconds, Donor was lifting what looked to me like a spoon from the body of Dover, then turned and placed it on the counter. Doc was sopping up the blood. “Now let’s close this off.”
There was a lot of bleeding and it took the two of them to stitch the wound. It wasn’t large, but there was plenty of blood. Mateo had come in and was standing by me. He said he heard a shot and came running. Doc looked at me, “Miles, there’s a stretcher in my office. Go get it so we can transport this man over there while he’s still unconscious.”
When I got back with the stretcher, Doc and Clem Donor had all the utensils loaded in a metal bowl. Molly and Emelda were busy cleaning up the rags. Doc began ordering us around so that we could get the patient on the stretcher. “It will take all of us to move him. We’ll lift him up then slide the stretcher underneath him; Dale that will be your job.”
“Miles, you and my assistant haul him over to my office. Before you go, take a look at his appendix. It is about five times the size of normal; it could have burst at any moment,” he showed us, then smiled. “If infection doesn’t sit in, he should live.”
“I’ll go with them,” spoke up Rev. Chapman. “I want to be with him when he wakes up. Would someone please tell Betty where I am?”