Mount Vernon was soaked in dismay, exposing all to heartache.
Washington was dying, but that didn’t stop his doctors from administering a gruesome regiment of bloodletting and archaic medicines.
There was no relief to be had for the General. When the doctors did manage to relieve one means of suffering, another seemed to inexplicably appear.
The scene was desperate, with servants and family rushing to meet the doctors’ demands.
Finally, Washington insisted that the medicos depart and asked his personal secretary to ensure that three days passed before entombment.
Mount Vernon was soaked in dismay, exposing all to heartache.
Oddly, no one paid Martha much mind.
Or her voodoo doll.

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Author: joshuajscully
That’s my picture up there. I’m not totally sure why I look so angry. I may be thinking about how much I hated the Crypt Keeper as a child.
I grew up faithfully watching reruns of The Twilight Zone and Tales from the Crypt. Unfortunately, I missed the boat in terms of writing for either of those programs. I do consider both to have been wildly influential when I think back to my earliest thoughts about becoming an author and I’m grateful my parents let me watch those shows as a kid (although there were probably some nights early in my childhood my mother wished she hadn’t let me watch those shows). If you’re familiar with either program, then you know what genres are my focus. I thoroughly enjoy science fiction, suspense, the twist ending, and some horror or supernatural elements as well. Honestly, when I was a kid the Crypt Keeper scared the hell out of me. As an adult, I’ve really learned to embrace the puns.
Historical fiction is a favorite of mine as well, and the root of that is shared with my profession. I am an educator by trade, and I teach American History. I consider some of the best writing I’ve ever done to be within the realm of historical fiction and I really enjoy saturating my mind in the research end of those projects.
I would make the argument that storytelling is in my blood. Even my sister mulled, very briefly (about 45 minutes), launching a career as a screenwriter! My last name is one of those Irish (and, apparently, formally Manx) ones with a wonderfully researched history -“the story-teller’s descendant”. On of the first day of school each year, I do share that “my name is Mr. Scully, and that rhymes with Kelly”, just so I do not hear the myriad of mispronunciations on the first day.
Several years ago, I started a blog similar to this one to highlight my middle years as a teacher. If that aspect of my life is of any interest to you at all, you can still find that blog online. During my summers, I really have time to pursue my writing projects and this blog will highlight some of that work. My first attempts to sit down and write extensively occurred when I was 15, but only a few years ago did I make setting time aside to write a priority. I’ve also benefited wildly over the years from many willing readers among my family and friends. The direction and feedback from those individuals has been invaluable.
Outside the world of the written word, I am an educator, basketball coach, lecturer, and (very, very occasionally) a landscaper. I have only ever known Western Pennsylvania as my home.
Although I love a good novel, I am absolutely unable to resist the power of the short story. The latter is really what I hope to be remembered for one day.
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I think the creepiest part is them trying to cure him with all these horrifying methods and him not being able to stop them. Ugh gives me a chill.
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The really sad part about that is – well, that’s not at all fiction haha. That poor man had some of the worst, most bizarre medical treatment I’ve ever heard of in my life. I really this was 18th century Virginia, but yikes. I read a great autobiography on him over the and that part was a genuinely difficult read. Ever paragraph was gruesome.
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Really? Holy shit. I think that was be a fantastic short story. All about enduring the horrible, bizarre pains of outdated treatment. Terrifying.
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I agree! Medical treatment before 1910 or so was absolutely horrifying! And – in my opinion – some remains so. I could only imagine a doctor gleefully saying, “oh, you have the flu – let’s bleed you!”
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would* LOL
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