“Please roll up your shirt Mr…..Lange?”  The doctor glanced at her clipboard for confirmation.  As he rolled his sleeve, a sea of violent, racist imagery slapped her eyes.  She recoiled but continued shakily.  “Ok Mr. Lange, you’ll feel a pinch.”  The inmate’s metal teeth smirked at her. His neck tattoos danced.

“Clearly you don’t follow our belief system.” He rasped amused.  The doctor remained silent as she inserted the needle.   

Anxiety swept through her since she saw his name on the roster.  Her every cell dreaded being in the same room.  The fiend targeted people for a superficial cause and could conceivably target her family.  He was a man similar to the one who had already done so.  

“It wouldn’t take much to give him an air embolism”, she thought.  “Just one air bubble away from freedom.”

Her mom, a devout Hindu (Hindu monotheism?) whose dicta was far more assertive than Hippocrates’, scolded her in her head.    “You must not shun your dharma- your duty.  You are a doctor.  Treat him as you would a saint.  No exceptions.  The brave realize this.”

The doctor stood up with dignity.  “I wish your destiny upon you.  Good luck. Guard, I am done here.”