August 9th, 2005

Nykki in White

Over the wall:

Hello? Hello, this is Dr. ___. Pause. Really? Is your mommy or daddy home? Pause. Can you go get them? Pause. Is your mommy or daddy or a babysitter home? Or a grandma? Or a grownup? Pause. Can you go get them? Pause. Okay, that's good. Okay. I'll call back later, can you tell them the doctor called? Pause. Oh, okay. Bye-bye.
There are three of us on my side of the wall. We're all giggling. He hangs up the phone, laughing. "I think she's about three. She's pretty articulate." I'd say, she was talking circles around you.

One cancellation, one sports physical. Took the chance to talk to her about well child things, nutrition, sex, drugs. Feels very strange to be talking to thirteen-year-olds about sexual activity, but I'm being taught opportunistic medicine - and who knows when the next time I'll see this pretty girl with the eyeliner and lightened hair next is? She's involved, busy, in soccer and softball and basketball and school council, a straight-A student. A good kid. It's awkward, though, the realization that she's half my age and that I'm an adult to her. Strange.

Cancellation means I'm happy to see an acute if one comes in; easy visits, experience. I'm feeling good today, like I might be able to make something of being a doctor, like three years from now I might not be completely dependent on others' advice. I've pulled out extra pieces of paper from my pockets, except the one with "Confederate Railroad" written on it; one of the ER docs swears I must hear their music. And I am hungry again, interested in things again. I think I have recovered from OB.
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