I was visiting a friend in the hospital some years ago when I heard the ringing voice of a young candy striper as she quickly ran down the hall. It was a small hospital and she had been put in charge of straining the urine of kidney stone patients in the hopes of catching a passed stone. The odds were slim, she had been told, that she would be lucky enough to find a stone. She was a determine tee, however, and was diligent in her duty. So when she noted a small irregularly-shaped whit stone at the bottom of the strainer, she immediately ran it to her superior, excited that she would be responsible for the discharge of her patient, who could go home now that his stone had passed without incident.
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