I’m deep into my final clinical rotation: Pediatrics. Peeds, for short. Notmy favorite. Or as my dad says, “Little people, little dollah!” But that’s notwhy I don’t love pediatrics. Treating a child is like treating Fido. Thepatient has no clue why he or she is here. Why is that mean person in thewhite coat hurting me? And after the mean person in the white coat hurts me,why does he give me a sticker or a milkbone?
Today I have the joy of spending nine hours straight in the outpatientpediatrics clinic. Hour six. My thirtieth patient of the day arrives. Timmy. Athree-year-old linebacker with a blond Mohawk. And he doesn’t exactly arrive.His mom carries him in, kicking, screaming, scratching, and howling. Par forthe course. I’ve spent this entire rotation wrestling three-year-olds to theground so I can look into their ears with my otoscope. Fun. And because I’mboth obsessive and curious, I’ve kept track of the number of patients I’ve seenand/or wrestled during the rotation so far. Timmy makes 531.
I size Timmy up. He snarls, lunges. I back up. I’m not worried. I’m prettysure I can take him. Pretty sure. He does have an advantage. He’s built low tothe ground and he has long nails. His hands look like claws. I wonder if he hasa lot of teeth. The last kid I went for sank his baby teeth into my forearm andlocked his mouth there for thirty seconds before I could escape. My arm lookslike a pin cushion.
Most medical students choose pediatrics because they love kids. At leastthat’s my guess. And most pediatricians are by nature calm, nurturing, andnonviolent. They start by trying to connect to the kids on their level.Meaning, bribery. They wear dorky cartoon-character ties and offer sheets ofstickers up front. They tell corny jokes that the kids hate. They talk in highpitched cartoon voices, which usually scare the kids rather than soothe them.As a last resort, they lie. They tell the kid that Mickey Mouse has movedinside the kid’s head and Doctor Happy wants to look at Mickey and Minnie’s newcondo.
Like any kid is going to buy that. Especially a kid like Timmy who resemblesa midget ultimate fighter. No way I’m going the Mickey Mouse route.
For the rest of this deleted scene from my upcoming book INSTITCHES (including how I took down this little rascal), please clickHERE!