The Snow Diagnosis

by David Fryer

“Hello, it’s Jerry from Enchanted Forest Urgent Care.  How are you enjoying your retirement?”

“Retirement is great.  I do a lot of hiking these days.  In fact, I’m on a winding trail right now having some Gardetto’s snack mix.  What’s up?”

“Do you have time to discuss a case with me?  I could really use your input.”

“Shoot, I have years of experience, and you just took over my practice.  I’m sure there are few tricks I haven’t taught you yet.”

“Oh great, it’s a really curious case.  We just brought in a patient.  Female, around 18 years old, quite beautiful, but completely unresponsive, in a coma actually.”

“Any history of epilepsy in the family?”

“That’s the thing, we have no family history, she was brought in by some acquaintances.  Several little people, or however they prefer to be called.  They had no knowledge of her background other than she was a rather agreeable roommate.  The name was Snow.”

“Hmm.  So how did they find her?”

“According to their spokesperson, an older gentleman named ‘Doc’, she had bought an apple, from another strikingly beautiful woman, ate it, then was out like a light on the floor.”

“Did they check her airways?  Try the Heimlich maneuver?”

“They said she was breathing fine, just seemed quite drowsy and then fainted dead away.”

“Ok.  Have you administered smelling salts?”

“Oh, we’ve tried everything.  There is brain activity, but we have had to put her on a nutrient drip to keep her supplied with food and water.”

“Did they question the apple merchant?  Get a sample of the fruit?”

“The seller only had the one apple apparently.  It was a New Zealand Queen.  A somewhat rare brand in these parts, but not too unusual.  My orderly mentioned she was the second most beautiful woman he had ever seen, next to the patient.  But upon hearing that, the merchant stormed off, maintaining she was much more attractive.”

“Curious.  Did you get a toxicology report on the remains of the apple the patient ate?”

“Yes, completely clean, no sign of barbiturates.  However, none of the little people would touch it.  Then they sang a peppy tune and left for work the day after they dropped off the patient.”

“So, what is the current status of this young girl, Snow?”

“She’s still in critical condition.  Oddly enough, my orderly spent hours discussing the patient with her roommates and apparently fell in love with the young woman after they played a couple of audio tracks of her singing.” 

“Now we are getting somewhere.  What is his genealogy?”


“Does he have any royalty in his background?”

“Hmm, let me check.  Frank!  Do you have any ties to royalty?  Uh-huh.  Really?  He says he owns a dog named Duke.”

“Close enough.  Have him kiss the patient.”

“But she’s unconscious!  Well, ok.  Nurse, can you remove the nutrient tube?  Oh my god.  It’s working!  She’s coming to!”

“Congratulations, doctor, you’ve solved the case.”

“Amazing, a kiss was the antidote to her condition.  It’s a medical miracle.”

“Anything else I can help you with?”

“Well, the office is packed with woodland animals anticipating to escort the girl back to her flat.  She no longer needs their direction.”

“Not sure how I can help there.”

“It’s a pest problem.  Would you consider adopting a deer or a rabbit?”

“Oh, no thanks.  I’m more of an animal huntsman than husbander.”

“No worries.  Well, while I have you on the line, maybe you can comment on a rhinoplasty patient we have with trust issues…”

David Fryer lives in Portland, Oregon.

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