Bryson City Secrets: Even More Tales of a Small-Town Doctor in the Smoky Mountains - Softcover

Larimore MD, Walt

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0310266343 ISBN 13: 9780310266341

Publisher: Zondervan, 2006

Synopsis

More enchanting tales of the people and events that shaped a young doctor’s life and faith during his early practice in the Smoky Mountains ... There are places in Bryson City where the smell of home cooking is a little too tempting for an empty stomach. Don’t, for instance, pass the Fryemont Inn when the windows are open―not unless you plan to come inside and enjoy fresh-baked rolls, gourmet cooking, and an owner who is as warm and inviting as the food. She’s just one of the friendly faces you’ll meet in Bryson City Secrets. Told with winsome humor and deep affection, Bryson City Secrets is a story-lover’s delight, continuing Dr. Walt Larimore’s reminiscences of his early years of country medical practice. Pull up a chair and feast on this rich fare of Smoky Mountain personalities, highland wisdom, and all the tears, laughter, tenderness, faith, courage, and misadventures of small-town life.

About this title

About the Author:

Walt Larimore, MD, has been called "one of the best known family physicians in America" and has been listed in the Best Doctors in America, The Guide to America’s Top Family Doctors, and Who’s Who in Medicine and Healthcare, Who's Who in America, and the International Health Professionals of the Year. He is also a best-selling author who has written, co-written, or edited thirty books. He writing has been recognized with a number of national awards, including a Christianity Today Book of the Year award, a Retailers Choice book award, three Silver Medallion Book Awards, three Gold Medallion Book Award nominations, and three Christy Award nominations. He and his wife, Barb, have two grown children, two grandchildren, and live in Colorado Springs area with their tabby, Jack. His website is www.DrWalt.com and his Morning Glory, Evening Grace devotions can be found at www.Devotional.DrWalt.com.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.:

Bryson City Secrets Copyright 2006 by Walt Larimore Requests for information should be addressed to: Zondervan, Grand Rapids, Michigan 49530 Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Larimore, Walter L. Bryson City secrets : even more tales of a small-town doctor in the Smoky Mountains / Walt Larimore. p. cm. ISBN-10: 0-310-26633-5 (hardcover) ISBN-13: 978-0-310-26633-4 (hardcover) 1. Larimore, Walter L. 2. Physicians --- North Carolina --- Bryson City --- Biography. 3. Medicine, Rural --- North Carolina --- Bryson City. I. Title. R154.L267A3 2005 610'.92 --- dc22 2005017451 This edition printed on acid-free paper. Some Scripture quotations are taken from the Holy Bible: New International Version. NIV. Copyright 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved. Some Scripture quotations are taken from the Holy Bible: Today's New International VersionTM. Copyright 2001, 2005 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means --- electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other --- except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher. Published in association with the literary agency of Alive Communications, Inc., 7680 Goddard Street, Suite 200, Colorado Springs, CO 80920. Interior design by Michelle Espinoza Printed in the United States of America 06 07 08 09 10 11 * 17 16 15 14 13 12 11 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 We want to hear from you. Please send your comments about this book to us in care of zreview@zondervan.com. Thank you. chapter one BLOODY MESS Hey, Walt.' I recognized Rick's voice on the other end of the line. Rick Pyeritz and I were both family physicians and had practiced together for four years. Before moving to Bryson City in 1981, we had been family medicine residents together at Duke University Medical Center. 'What's up?' I asked him. 'I need some help, partner. I'm over in the ER sewing up a woman who stabbed herself several times. When the EMTs brought her in, she was hysterical, so I had to sedate her pretty heavily. Anyway, Don and Billy said she apparently murdered her husband in their home and then tried to do herself in. Since I'm going to be here awhile, would you be willing to go to the crime scene and do the medical examiner's report?' My heart began to beat a bit more quickly, as it always did when I received a call from the emergency room or a summons to the scene of a crime, and I suspected that the suspense of the unknown --- of the surprises one might find waiting --- would keep on giving me a sense of nervousness and trepidation every time a call came. Nevertheless, I tried to sound cool, calm, and collected. It's a skill doctors are taught early in their training. 'Be glad to help, Rick. Where's the house?' 'It's up a hollow just off Deep Creek. Don and Billy are taking the ambulance back over there. They say you can follow them.' 'Let me throw on some scrubs. Five minutes?' 'I'll have them wait in their unit at the end of your driveway.' 'Sounds good, Rick.' I hung up the phone and walked to our bedroom to put on my scrubs. I smiled as I looked at the bedroom furniture I had given to Barb, my wife, for our tenth wedding anniversary over a year earlier. Right out of medical school in Durham, North Carolina, we had moved to this quaint little house in this charming village with our then nearly three-year-old daughter, Kate. Bryson City is the county seat of Swain County, in the heart of the Great Smoky Mountains. The county is spread over 550 square miles, yet in 1985 it only had about 8,000 residents. Less than a thousand people lived in the town. The population was small because the federal government owned 86 percent of the land --- and much of it was wilderness. Since pathology-trained coroners lived only in the larger towns, the non-pathologist doctors in the rural areas often became certified as coroners. We were not expected to do autopsies --- only pathologists were trained to perform these --- but we were expected to perform all of the non-autopsy responsibilities required of a medical examiner. Having obtained my training as a coroner while still in training at Duke, I knew the basics of determining the time and suspected cause of death, gathering medical evidence, and filling out the copious triplicate forms required by the state authorities. Not long after receiving the fancy certificate of competence from the state of North Carolina, I was required to put my new forensic skills to work. Through the subsequent years as a medical examiner, the work had become more routine, but never boring. After putting on my scrubs, I left our house, which was located across the street from the Swain County General Hospital, and jumped into our aging Toyota Corolla. Billy was in the driver's seat of the ambulance as I pulled up to the end of the driveway. He smiled and waved as he gunned the accelerator and disappeared behind the hospital and down the backside of Hospital Hill. I had no idea what awaited me at the murder scene, and I tried not to think about it as I followed the Swain County ambulance. Because medical examiners were required to gather medical evidence for all deaths that occurred outside the hospital, during my first four years in practice I was called on as a coroner in dozens of cases. Nevertheless, I still found my stomach in knots whenever I approached the scene of a crime or unexpected death. After observing the scene, determining the cause of death was usually straightforward, at least from a medical perspective. But every instance continued to remind me of the finality of death, helping me realize again that death almost always comes unexpectedly, without warning or opportunity for preparation. An even more troublesome aspect of my work as an ME, at least when exploring a murder scene, is that it was an unnerving reminder of people's inhumanity to people --- of the intrinsic evil that can potentially bubble out of any person's heart, even in an idyllic town I had come to love and call home. I followed the ambulance up the narrow dirt road into a small mountain hollow. It was a typical winter day in the Smokies --- gray, overcast, damp, dreary, and cold. Most who visit the Smokies in the spring and fall revel in its temperate and lush glory. But most aren't aware of how stiflingly hot and steamy the summers can be --- and virtually none know how dismal a Smoky Mountain winter can be. This day would prove to be far more dismal than most. As we reached the end of the road, I saw several sheriff vehicles in a small field in front of a diminutive white farmhouse surrounded with bright yellow crime scene tape. After parking and hopping out of the cab, Billy walked over and extended his hand. 'Howdy, Doc.' 'Greetings, Billy.' As Don walked up from behind the ambulance I nodded at him. 'It's a mess in thar, Doc,' Don explained. 'What happened?' 'On first look, it seems the woman stabbed her husband. She used a big ole butcher knife. Pretty much got him straight in the heart, at least judgin' from all the blood on his chest and the floor. Then she turned the knife on herself.' 'Cut her wrists?' I asked, assuming a common method of suicide. 'Nope,' Billy responded. 'First she cut her arm a couple of times, and then she tried to stab herself in the chest a couple a times. When we got here, she was out like a light. Don't know if she fainted or was in shock. But her vitals were good. We got her stabilized and then transferred her up to the hospital.' We began to walk to the house. 'Was she

About this edition

• Publisher: Zondervan
• Publication date: 2006
• ISBN 10: 0310266343
• ISBN 13: 9780310266341
• Binding: Paperback
• Number of pages: 288