The morning after

Had a really exhausting call last night - and I feel it in my ( aging :) ) bones, that are still aching miserably from last night. Even my head feels like it's been wrapped up in cotton wool! One of the worst cases I had was a three day old child with Down's Syndrome. Came in for a segmental volvulus at some ungodly hour of the morning and he looked really ill, really septic and I seriously doubt he'll live past the week. Then again, children can surprise you sometimes - and there are always miracles to pray for.

Dragging myself home, I flopped myself on the couch, snoozed on and off while I channel-surfed. Surprisingly I caught an intriguing new series called The Collector. I wouldn't say the acting's stellar but I'd say that the premise of the series sounds interesting enough. Morgan Pym, a 14th century monk in Nuremberg, trades his immortal soul to the Devil for a forbidden taste of love and happiness with his dying inamorata. After 10 years of bliss, the terms are done but he manages to strike a deal with the Devil to become one of his Collectors.

For six centuries Morgan plays the part - finding people and notifying them that they have 48 hours until their deal expires, and their soul is sucked down to Hell. When Morgan meets a young girl named Maya - who reminds him strongly of Katrina - he is inspired to renegotiate his deal. Now he can help his "clients" seek redemption, and hope that one day he, too, will be redeemed. Of course, Chris Kramer, the Canadian actor playing the Collector in search of redemption... looks sinful enough :) Certainly worth sacrificing an immortal soul for.

The idea of an immortal soul and redemption brings back memories of catechism. God and the Devil, redemption and eternal damnation, Heaven and Hell - and everything else in between. It isn't that easy to shake off a decade's worth of missionary school teaching after all. :)