Something on the Polls board reminded me of this:
An elderly Scottish Presbyterian minister lay dying in a London hospital. Asked if he had any last requests,he whispered "If I could just hear a bit of the pipes again, I'd die a happy man".
So they located a piper who agreed to play,and he strolled up and down the corridor all through the night, the sad srtains of the pibroch echoing mournfully through the darkened ward.
And,as if by a miracle,the next morning,the old gentleman felt so much better,that he was able to rise from his bed,and leave the hospital.
Unfortunately, everyone else on the ward had died.