Sparky
I am ridiculously happy on pediatrics. Even with repetitive well child checks. Even with five million reassurances that it's just viral. Even on the last two days on wards.
I think that it is just so much better by comparison. And everyone's happy. The nurses are pleasant. They pronounce my name right. Even when my resident says she's in a foul mood she has a smile on her face. She is good with the patients. She lets me do family centered rounds. I feel like I know what's going on with my patients. Not completely left out of the loop and like I'm constantly chasing my tail to figure out what's going on.
Plus the kids are cute. I mean really. Last night the cross cover resident had to listen to the lungs of one of my patients. He's almost three years old and he was squirming all over. "Are you workin' on a poop?" she asked. "Yep," he replied. "Do you want me to change you?" his mom asks. "No, I'm alright." Okay then. So the resident leans over to listen to his asthmatic end expiratory wheezy lungs and he reaches up and touches her nose, "Got your nose!" How adorable is that?
Adults never do that. In fact sometimes I catch myself asking them how their tummy feels and get funny looks like I'm crazy.
One of my gastroenteritis patients came into clinic the other day and he was 9-ish and at that embarassed stage about his diarrhea. So I got to tell him my new favorite joke:
What has two grey legs and two brown legs?
An elephant with diarrhea.
He was cooly amused, as was his mom and sister. But she felt left out so I had to tell a joke to her, too:
What did one wall say to the other?
Meet ya at the corner.
I'm not sure she thought it was very funny. But I did.
I didn't think they were quite up for the slightly more mature one that I'd also learned:
What do you call a dog missing both hind legs who has steel balls?
Sparky.
I think that it is just so much better by comparison. And everyone's happy. The nurses are pleasant. They pronounce my name right. Even when my resident says she's in a foul mood she has a smile on her face. She is good with the patients. She lets me do family centered rounds. I feel like I know what's going on with my patients. Not completely left out of the loop and like I'm constantly chasing my tail to figure out what's going on.
Plus the kids are cute. I mean really. Last night the cross cover resident had to listen to the lungs of one of my patients. He's almost three years old and he was squirming all over. "Are you workin' on a poop?" she asked. "Yep," he replied. "Do you want me to change you?" his mom asks. "No, I'm alright." Okay then. So the resident leans over to listen to his asthmatic end expiratory wheezy lungs and he reaches up and touches her nose, "Got your nose!" How adorable is that?
Adults never do that. In fact sometimes I catch myself asking them how their tummy feels and get funny looks like I'm crazy.
One of my gastroenteritis patients came into clinic the other day and he was 9-ish and at that embarassed stage about his diarrhea. So I got to tell him my new favorite joke:
What has two grey legs and two brown legs?
An elephant with diarrhea.
He was cooly amused, as was his mom and sister. But she felt left out so I had to tell a joke to her, too:
What did one wall say to the other?
Meet ya at the corner.
I'm not sure she thought it was very funny. But I did.
I didn't think they were quite up for the slightly more mature one that I'd also learned:
What do you call a dog missing both hind legs who has steel balls?
Sparky.
posted by S. at 6:55 PM
1 Comments:
Great entry. Kids have a way of rubbing off some of the energy they have. Especially when they leave after a short period of time:)
I was wondering if you knew anything about Tysabri. I'm doing a presentation on it and was wondering what you thought of it?
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