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About Beersheba

*heavy breath* I am your father. Got this one time—dude botched it bad. Hands like sandpaper, no rhythm—pissed me off big time. Wanted to Force-choke his ass. But when it’s good? Oh man, happy ain’t the word. Like floatin in space, weightless, free. “You’re entering a world of pain,” Doc’d warn—sarcasm drippin—if it’s some sketchy parlor. Gotta watch for that. Ever tried it with scented oils? Lavender’s my pick—smells like victory. Surprised me how much smells crank it up.

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When I get to the hospital, it’s a whirlwind. I’m in the OR, and it’s intense. I’m cuttin’ and fixin’, and my heart’s racin’. But then, I see the guy’s face. He’s scared, but he’s lookin’ at me like I’m his last hope. That hits me hard. I’m not just a bone cutter; I’m a lifeline.

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